Little Angel
by UnicornRainbows
Summary: Danny writes a memoir based on the events of Michelle's kidnapping and...tragic murder.
1. Danny's Foreword

_For Papouli, Pam and Michelle_

Little Angel 

By Danny Tanner

Foreword

It's only been ten years? How could that be? How on Earth could I let something like that happen? No. Scratch that. Why could I let it happen? Why would I allow a horrible person…Alright. Before I get too caught up, let me start over from the beginning.

First off, let me introduce myself. My name is Daniel Tanner. I am a former talk show host and I live with my large family (Too many to name) in San Francisco. I am also an activist against kidnapped and murdered children.

You're probably wondering why how I got involved in something like that. It's a long story and that is why I'm writing this memoir.

Over the years, I've had family, friends, colleagues and neighbors asking me if I've had plans to write a book. At first, I didn't want to because I was afraid writing one would open already healing wounds. I was spiraling in and out of depression. There were days when I wouldn't get up out of bed or eat or try to do anything else. The only thing I could do_ well _was cry or stare at the ceiling all day long.

My two daughters, plus my stepdaughter, were the ones who told me inspiring thing: "Dad, you've gotta keep smiling. You've got to keep smiling for her. She'd want you to."

But I didn't always want to smile. Eventually, I did. But I didn't always think like that. Learning things like that, is what helped me through the last five years of my life.

But it's still hard. Everyday, I grieve. I mourn. I weep. I try my hardest to smile, but it's a struggle.

You see, ten years ago, I lost my youngest daughter, Michelle Elizabeth. Michelle was kidnapped while walking to school with her friend. She was later murdered. That is why I began an activist group called the LPAG (Little Princess Advocate Group) in Michelle's memory. I started the group to help other families prevent having their children end up like my daughter did.

Michelle was only eight years old. Her kidnapping and murder is the one event I'll never forget. This story is for me, you, my family and also Michelle's.

Michelle, my little princess, this story is for you. Oh, how I miss you…

Danny Tanner

November 2006


	2. Beginning

Chapter One

Beginning

Michelle was born on November 13, 1986 in San Francisco. At the time, I was married and had two other daughters. My wife's name was Pamela Marie Katsopolis, but we called her Pam. Pam had wavy blonde hair and manila skin. When I first laid eyes on her, I told myself then that she was the girl I was going to marry. Her smile could brighten up a room. She had an infectious laugh and she was extremely pretty.

My first daughter, Donna Jo Margaret was born in 1977. Donna Jo (We later just called her D.J. for short) inherited Pam's smile and doting ways. Pam always doted over all of us; so quite simply, she passed that on to D.J.

Four years later, our next daughter, Stephanie Judith was born. Stephanie also inherited Pam's smile, but not much her doting ness. Stephanie inherited Pam's sense of humor and her excitability. Pam could get overexcited about almost anything. Stephanie tends to follow in her mother's footsteps.

And last, but certainly not least, came Michelle Elisabeth. Michelle came into the world, but she inherited Pam's charm. When Michelle was a little older, she reminded me a little of Pam. Michelle could sweet-talk her way out of any situation when she was little. My brother-in-law, Jesse, says Pam was like Michelle in that way, too. And Michelle _loved_ sweets. Cake, cookies, pie, muffins, candy…Michelle would eat it. And Pam loved the stuff as well.

When Pam was pregnant with Michelle, she had regular cravings for sweets and she ate them almost everyday.

"That's why I was so chubby as a baby," Michelle once said to me. "'Cause Mom was feeding me all those sweets. Cool!"

A few weeks after Michelle was born and Pam was home, the family became more adjusted to having another baby in the house, especially Stephanie. Stephanie officially became the middle child after Michelle was born. And she hated it. D.J. tried to throw her weight around, trying to boss Stephanie around and Stephanie felt us parents were ignoring her because we were too busy catering to Michelle.

Eventually, we had a long family meeting and began discussing plans to try to bond more as a family. Pam suggested a family barbecue in the backyard. She invited her family over and I just invited my old friend from college, Joseph Gladstone to come, since my family was out of town at the time.

We set a date for the barbecue for Wednesday. Pam was to go shopping and then pick up her brother, Jesse and then come back here.

It never happened.

Just after leaving the supermarket, Pam was on her way to pick up Jesse. At an intersection near the store, Pam had just pulled up to the other side of the intersection on the green light. A man had run a red light and hit her head-on, killing her instantly. The man also happened to be drunk driving, we found out later.

* * *

I was at home with the girls and Joey, waiting for Pam to come home. Jesse called me, looking for Pam. 

"Pam was supposed to pick me up at least an hour ago," he complained.

I knew Pam wasn't exactly punctual, like I was, but she had her days when she was late and early. Pam was like that.

"Jess, just hold on. She'll come," I reassured him.

"Okay. I'll see you guys later," he said.

We hung up.

"Daddy, I'm hungry. When's Mom comin' home?" Stephanie whined.

"Soon, sweetie," I said. "Real soon."

"_How_ soon?"

"Don't be such a baby, baby," D.J. taunted.

"I am _not _a baby!" Stephanie replied huffily.

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"NO I AM NOT!" Stephanie shrieked, waking up Michelle.

"Girls! Enough!" I shouted. The noise woke up Michelle and she began fussing and crying. Joey went to pick up her up and comfort her.

"But she started it!" Stephanie said, pointing at D.J.

"I've had enough of this. You girls haven't stopped fighting since your mother brought Michelle home. She planned this day to get everyone together and this is how you repay her? With even more bickering? Now, I'm only going to say this once and that's to stop fighting and arguing. You guys are sisters and you need to work together. You're going to have to be a big role model for Michelle when she gets older because she's going to look up to you. All this bickering is not the way. Now, do I make myself clear?"

Stephanie nodded. So did D.J.

"Sorry, Dad," they apologized.

Meanwhile, Joey was singing _Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star _to Michelle in a imitation baby voice. The three of us couldn't help but start laughing.

* * *

Four hours later, Pam still hadn't shown up. Jesse was with us now. So were his parents. But no Pam. The hot dogs, hamburgers and grilled corn-on-the-cob sat in the grill untouched. 

"I want Mommy. Daddy, where's Mommy?" Stephanie asked.

I didn't know how to answer the question.

"This is ridiculous. I'll be right back," Jesse replied, walking into the house.

He went into the kitchen and picked up the phone and started dialing.

"Jess, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Calling the police," he said simply.

A minute or so later, he spoke.

"Yes, good evening. I'd like to report a missing person. Blonde hair, brown eyes, about 5'5 feet tall. Her name is Pamela Tanner."

It was quiet for a moment.

Then Jesse's face grew pale. "No. You can't be serious? Tell me you're not serious! No! I won't believe it! YOU AREN'T SERIOUS!"

Jesse's shouts became obvious to everyone in the house now. His parents suddenly appeared to take the kids outside.

Whatever was going on over the phone was making Jesse more and more angrier. And I'd never seen him so angry. Actually, he looked more than angry. He looked livid.

"Don't fucking lie to me! She can't be dead! She's not fucking dead! She IS NOT DEAD!"

Tears began flowing down his face. He gripped the table tightly with his free hand and collapsed. He sobbed into his hand and hung up the phone.

"Jess?" I asked uncertainly. "What happened?"

It took a moment for him to gain his composure. He turned to me gravely and spoke slowly.

"The police called. They want us to come down to see Pam," he replied.

"Well, is she alright?" I asked, although I already sensed she was gone.

Jesse began to cry again and that's when I knew something had gone wrong.

"Something terrible happened to Pam, didn't it? Jess, what happened to Pam? Where is she?"

"She's at the morgue, Danny. She's dead," he said, bursting into a sea of tears again.

I don't know what happened to me then, but the last thing I remember was passing out on the kitchen floor.

I had lost Pam. My sweet, wonderful, lovely wife. My soul mate, my lover and my best friend. I couldn't believe it. And I didn't want to believe it. Little did I know I'd have to go through the pain of losing a loved one all over again.


	3. The Kidnapping

Chapter Two

The Kidnapping

_October 19, 1995_

It's funny how parents never think of their kids dying. I always thought that when I died, the girls would be planning my funeral and saying good-bye to me. I never once thought_ I _would be the one who be saying good-bye to one of my own.

The day of Michelle's kidnapping started off like every other day. Get up and prepare for work. Fix breakfast and Michelle's lunch for school. Work on talk show routine with my sister-in-law, Becky Katsopolis.

After Pam died, Jesse and Joey moved in to help take care of the girls. Since then, a lot has happened. Jesse got married to Rebecca Donaldson, my talk show co-host in _Wake Up, San Francisco! _After their marriage, the two became parents to identical twins Alexander and Nicholas (Alex and Nicky, for short) and became a nightclub owner to the famous Smash Club in downtown San Fran.

Joey had had his own kid's show on television, but after quitting due to having an obnoxious co-host, he began dabbling in comedy stand up.

D.J. had gotten accepted in Stanford University in California, majoring in liberal arts.

I had remarried again. On June 8, 1995, I married Claire Mahan. I had known her for several months before suddenly popping the question to her.

Claire made me feel alive again. After Pam's death, I was sure I'd never marry again. I'd had a fiancée before Claire named Vicky Larson, but our relationship never worked out. Vicki and I were co-hosts on Wake Up. We fell in love and our relationship went full force. We were engaged, but then Vicki got a job as a newscaster in Chicago. She wanted us to come with her, but I couldn't. Our home and our life were here in San Francisco. I didn't want to leave. Vicki wanted to go and I didn't want to kill her dream, so we parted ways. I never saw her again after that.

Claire had a daughter named Gia who was Stephanie's best friend. Gia was…a wild child. She and Stephanie didn't hit it off right away. Gia smoked and had boyfriends and drank once in awhile. Plus, her grades were terrible. Stephanie was the opposite of her. She was goofy and smart and she never drank or smoked in her life. Stephanie would _never_ have done it, anyway. I'd have grounded her until she was eighty-five.

Gia and Steph used to be enemies, but eventually, the girls became best friends. Stephanie helped Gia turn her life around. Gia quit smoking, skipping classes and drinking and got her grades up. Gia also turned Stephanie into a new young woman. Gia loves wearing belly-baring shirts. And when she started wearing them, so did Stephanie. Makeup, skirts…I couldn't handle it at first, but then I relented when Stephanie promised me she'd tone down her new makeover. Gia also promised to do the same.

Michelle was the only one who didn't like Gia. Michelle used to be close to Stephanie until Gia came into the picture. I think Michelle was jealous of Gia. Gia treated Michelle like a baby, but Michelle always thought of Gia as being an "idiot", as she put it.

When they became stepsisters, the two of them fought everyday, about everything, all the time.

I remembered my quote I had told D.J. and Stephanie when the two of them wouldn't stop fighting after Michelle was born.

They listened. It took awhile for them to understand what I was trying to tell them, but they got it eventually.

My family. They have been the center of my life for a long time, so that's why, today; I still cannot believe that I lost my youngest little baby.

* * *

I was in the kitchen, preparing pancakes, bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast. D.J. was home that week from Stanford, so she came downstairs first.

"Smells good, Dad. I'm starving!" she replied. She kissed my cheek.

"How's the literature paper going?" I asked.

D.J. was studying American literature in liberal arts. She had chosen Lois Lowry as an author to write her paper on. Lois had written one of D.J.'s favorite books _The Giver_.

"Pretty good. I've found out a lot about Ms. Lowry already. _The Giver _is one of the top banned books in America."

D.J. dug into her pancakes and ate heartily.

Stephanie and Gia arrived later, talking about a boy Gia liked.

"Well, I saw him staring at you the whole time in Science class, Gia. I'm _telling _you, Anthony Birch _really_ likes you," Stephanie gushed.

"Like me or does he like_ like_ me?"

"Remember when you guys were lab partners two weeks ago and you guys were both reaching for the same beaker? His eyes kinda met yours when he touched your hand. Gia, Anthony has it bad for you!"

Gia squealed. "Thanks, Steph. You're right. Anthony totally likes me."

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked, already knowing I'd never know.

"Dad, you'd never understand," Stephanie replied.

"Yeah, Danny. It's a girl thing," Gia added.

D.J. looked up from her_ Giver_ book. "They're right, Dad," she chirped.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked, handing Stephanie the bottle of maple syrup.

"Michelle's still getting ready for school. Uh, Aunt Becky and Uncle Jesse said they'd be right down soon with the twins. And Joey"

Stephanie was cut off by Joey himself. "Alright, pancakes! My favorite!" he replied with sheer and utter excitement.

"Down, boy," I joked before Joey could make a beeline for the table.

We all laughed.

About five minutes later, everyone else appeared, ready for breakfast. Becky was holding the hand of each twin while Jesse set up a card table for them. Michelle was behind them, carrying a huge envelope.

"Daddy, Denise is going to come over here today. We're going to walk together," she told me.

Denise Frazier was Michelle's best friend since kindergarten.

"Sure. Is Denise going to eat here?"

"Nah. We're gonna rush, Dad. She's gonna be here in ten minutes."

Gia rolled her eyes behind Michelle's back and giggled. "Danny, Mom's sleepin' like a rock, huh?" she said.

"Yeah. Not even my super-loud vacuum cleaner can wake her," I joked.

"Hey, you're in a jokey mood. Can you put that in my card?" Michelle asked, handing me the envelope.

"What's this?" I asked.

"This is Derek's get-well card. He twisted his ankle, so I made this get-well card for him. So far, I've gotten sixty signatures. Would you please sign it?"

Of course, we all signed it. Gia reluctantly wrote her name on it. Even the twins scrawled their names on it.

Michelle beamed with happiness. The last smile I saw on her face. She put the card in her bag. "Thanks, everybody. Derek is gonna_ freak_ when he sees this card!"

She got up from her seat and put her plate into the dishwasher. "I gotta go. Denise is waiting for me." She kissed me good-bye and grabbed her lunch from the counter. She waved good-bye to everyone else and walked out the door.

And that was the last time I saw her alive.

* * *

An hour later, I was in the living room with Becky on the sofa. The two of us were reading our schedule. 

"Who's our guest?" I asked.

"We're having a battle of the bands today. Collective Soul is performing their song _Shine_ and a local grunge band is performing, too. I think they're called Rayn or something like that."

"Oh, what joy. Loud rock music," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I grimaced.

"Hey, grunge is actually quite tame. I should know 'cause I really like grunge. Jesse got me hooked on Nirvana."

And that started our discussion on music. I had no idea we were talking for at least ten minutes about our tastes in music. I like classic rock. Becky liked modern stuff.

All of sudden, while I was in the middle of talking about The Who, Denise came running through the front door at top speed. I had to jump in front of her to stop her from crashing into something.

At first, I thought she was playing, but then I noticed she was crying and sobbing uncontrollably. She was talking incoherently.

"All my fault…she told me to tell you…can't believe it…I-I can't be-believe…"

"Denise, what happened?" I asked, wondering what was going on.

Becky dropped her index cards on the floor and grabbed Denise in a hug. "Denise, honey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" she asked soothingly. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

"No it won't!" she cried out.

"Why won't it?" I asked.

She was quiet for a moment. She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

"Denise?" I asked again.

She took a deep breath and turned to face us.

"Because somebody took Michelle," she said before bursting into tears again.


	4. Denise's Story

Chapter Three

Denise's Story

I was confused. I didn't understand. I looked at Denise with utter confusion and bewilderment. What did she mean _somebody took Michelle_?

"_Huh?_ What do you mean, _somebody took Michelle_? Denise, what do you mean?" I asked, my voice nearly cracking.

Denise gulped. "Michelle and I were walking down the street, on our way to school. A man we didn't know just snatched her up and took her in his car and drove off. Michelle was trying to fight him off, but she wasn't strong enough. She was yelling out, "Tell my dad, tell my dad!" The guy put her in his car and left."

Becky gasped. "Oh, my God. Denise, do you know which way they went? What did the man look like?"

Denise began sobbing again. I was on the verge of crying myself. I sat down on the couch with Denise and began trying to comfort her. "He told me not to say anything to anyone, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I had to tell you, Mr. Tanner," Denise cried out.

_My little baby. Who would take my little princess? Why would anyone want to kidnap my little baby?_ _Why would anyone threaten a little girl? _I thought as I rubbed Denise's shoulder.

"I'm s-s-sorry. Mr. Tanner, is Michelle gonna be alright?" Denise asked.

I held Denise in my arms. Denise was shaking uncontrollably. "I don't know, Denise," I answered truthfully.

Becky took Denise's hand. "Denise, let's call the police, okay? When the cops get here, you can give them a description of the man who took Michelle. Then I'll call your parents and tell them what happened and you can go home. Let's do this, okay?"

Denise nodded. She got up and wiped her face with her sleeve.

"I have Michelle's bag, Mr. Tanner. It fell off her shoulders when the man took her away," she said, handing me the backpack Michelle was wearing on the way to school.

I opened it up and peeked inside. Her schoolwork, lunch and the card she had been working on for Derek.

Without warning, I began crying. I couldn't believe what was happening. It was all happening way too fast. One minute, Michelle was on the way to school. The next, she was _kidnapped?_ It didn't make any sense.

I was afraid for my little baby. Where was she? What was that man doing to her?

The police arrived at my house about twenty minutes later. Denise was with Becky in the kitchen and I was sitting in the living room, sitting in complete silence. There was no one else at home except for the three of us.

When the police came, there were four of them; two male andtwo female. They stepped inside when I answered the door.

"What's the problem, Mr. Tanner? We heard there was a kidnapping?"

"Yes. My youngest daughter."

One of them whipped out a small notebook. "We need some information about her. What's her name and age?" One of them asked.

"Her name is Michelle Elisabeth Tanner and she'seight years old," I said.

"How tall is she?"

"Uh, about 4'2."

"Hair color? Eye color?"

"Blonde hair, brown eyes?"

"What was she wearing the last time you saw her?"

And it went on from there. I told them Michelle had been wearing a Smurfette T-shirt with blue jean shorts and white tennies. I showed them a recent picture of her to use for reference.

"Actually, there's only one witness here. She's Michelle's friend, but I don't know if she's up to telling you what happened today. She's pretty shaken up, but I'll see if she wants to talk to you. Denise?" I called.

Denise came back in with Becky. Her eyes were red and her face was puffy. Becky's face looked horror-stricken and red with anger.

Denise took a seat and looked down at her lap. Becky stood next to me.

Finally, one of the female officers spoke, "Hello, Denise? I'm Officer Hacker-Weissman. We're here to help you find your friend. Can you tell us what happened?" She asked softly.

Denise nodded briefly. "I guess so," she answered.

"Good," Officer Hacker-Weissman replied. She turned to her colleagues. "Take notes," she ordered the others. She turned back to Denise. "We're ready when you are, Denise," she said.

Denise looked up glumly and slowly began her story.

"Okay. Here's what happened…"

* * *

"_Michelle and I was a couple of blocks away from school. We were walking and chatting, talking about normal stuff._

"_We should do this everyday," I replied._

"_What? Walking?" Michelle asked._

"_Yup."_

_Michelle nodded. "It's okay. I figure we should get out more and exercise. It sounds fun. Plus, we get to see interesting things."_

"_Yeah. Hi, Mrs. Richardson!" I yelled, waving to the new neighbors. Mrs. Richardson was from Louisiana. She had a twin son and daughter our ages named Jason and Lacey Lynn. They both were in our class._

"_Hi, Denise! Hello, Michelle! How are y'all?" Mrs. Richardson asked._

"_Good!"_

"_That's great! Lacey Lynn and Jason enjoyed your Aunt Becky's homemade cookies, Michelle. Tell your family to stop by one day!"_

"_Okay, I will. See you later, Mrs. Richardson!" Michelle replied._

_We waved good-bye and continued walking._

"_Hey, did you sign Derek's card yet?" Michelle asked me._

"_His get-well card?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_No. Not yet. Can I see it?"_

_Michelle took the card out of her bag along with a pen and handed it to me. I quickly signed it and added a picture of a sloppy smiley face._

"_Thanks. I hope Derek likes this card. I put a lot of work into it," Michelle told me._

_The card was made out of thick blue cardboard that was folded in half. The outside had pictures of us classmates on it and the inside had signatures all over every inch of the card. _

"_I just hope Aaron doesn't mess it up," she said._

_Aaron was the class bully. He was cool – sometimes. He usually did stuff to Michelle, this girl named Lisa Leeper and me but he liked to tease everyone else he could think of._

"_Did he sign the card?" I asked._

"_I gave it to Lisa so she could force him to sign it. You know how **she** is."_

_We nodded. Lisa was the only girl who could make Aaron do anything._

_Five minutes later, there was silence. We were about half a block away from school when we saw this black truck drive by us very slowly. The truck had a man in it. He looked old, but he looked older than Michelle's dad or Joey or Jesse or Michelle's sister's boyfriend. He looked as old as…the old Ranger Roy that was on TV, I think, but a little younger than him._

_He saw us and pulled up beside us._

"_You girls going anywhere?" he asked._

"_We're going to school," we answered._

"_I'll give you a ride," he offered._

"_No, thanks," we said. We walked on ahead of him._

_The man drove slowly again to keep up with us._

"_You sure?" he asked._

_We nodded. I don't know about Michelle, but that man made me very scared._

"_Come on, Michelle," I whispered. "I don't like the look of that man."_

"_Me, either."_

_We walked a little bit faster. Then the man suddenly stopped his car and got out. Then he walked towards us._

_I gasped. "Run, Michelle!" I yelled, running as fast as I could. Michelle joined me. _

_Michelle ran as fast as she could, but she wasn't fast enough, I guess. The man grabbed her. _

_Michelle was shrieking and yelling and trying her best to stop the man. I tried to push him away, but I wasn't strong enough. I was scared and frightened. Michelle was crying and trying to kick the man, but he held her legs and told her to shut up._

"_Don't you say **anything** about this to anyone, you understand me? Keep quiet," he said in an evil, hissy voice. To **me**, he said this. I just stood there in shock. I was mad that I couldn't do anything to stop that man. I was mad that he was stronger than me. I was mad that I couldn't do anything to help Michelle. The man threw Michelle in the backseat of his car._

_Before the man drove off, Michelle managed to yell out, "Tell my dad, tell my dad! Tell my dad, Denise! Tell him!" _

_And then he drove off with her. _

_I found her bag. She dropped it when she was kicking the man. _

_Then I ran over here as fast as I could to tell Mr. Tanner what had happened…"_

* * *

We all stood in complete shock after Denise told her story. I was unbelievably sad for all Denise had gone through. Denise was only a little girl, yet she tried to fight that stranger. And Michelle had tried to do the same. I was proud of the both of them. 

"What did the man look like?" Officer Hacker-Weissman asked.

Denise wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve. "He was a White man. He had a black beard on the bottom on his chin and he had long black hair and green eyes," she answered earnestly.

"Do you remember what he was wearing?" Officer Hacker-Weissman asked.

"He was wearing a red shirt with jeans and some dirty sneakers."

Officer Hacker-Weissman nodded to her fellow officers. "Thank you, Denise. I think that'll be enough questions. Why don't we take you home and tell your parents what happened, okay? I don't think it'll be a good idea for you to go to school. Stay home and relax, okay? We'll find your friend soon, alright?"

Denise nodded meekly as she left with the police officers. Before she left, she turned to me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tanner. I hope they find Michelle," she replied.

"Thank you, Denise. You helped a lot, believe it or not," I told her.

"I don't think I did. I just want Michelle back."

_So do I_, I thought.

* * *

"Danny, what the hell is going on? Michelle's _missing_?" Joey demanded angrily, bursting through the door two hours later. Rebecca had picked up the twins from school early and was busy with them. Joey had Stephanie, Gia and Jesse behind him. 

"Yeah. Can't believe it, huh?" I said dryly.

"How could she be missing?" Gia questioned. "Our neighborhood is safe, isn't it?"

"Obviously not. Dad, we _have_ to look for Michelle. _Please_, can't we look for her?" Stephanie asked, her face streaked with tears.

Jesse sat next to me, his face evident with grief, anger and thought. "I say we look for her. I want to see who this creep is who took my niece and make him pay. Who's with me?"

Stephanie nodded. So did Joey and Gia. I nodded as well.

I got up, feeling shaky and faint. Jesse and Joey had to grab me before I collapsed on the floor.

"Uh, Danny, I think you should stay here. You're not fit to go out looking for Michelle," Joey suggested.

As much as I wanted to go out and look for my daughter, my body was telling me not to. I was feeling like I could faint anytime. I felt sick to my stomach and suddenly very weak and pale.

"Okay. I'll stay here," I agreed.

I watched the others quickly run towards the door.

"We'll be back, Dad. Contact D.J.," Stephanie said to me as she began to close the door.

After everyone had left, I got up and began pacing the floor, ignoring my fatigue. The more I began pacing, the more my heart began to beat. It beated faster and faster until I thought I could hear it.

Visions of memories overcame me. Michelle's face came into my mind.

Michelle's birth. Her first steps. Her first word. Her first day of school…and then I saw her in a blur of plain bright white. She was surrounded by bright light and she smiled. She looked exactly like an angel.

Then the vision ended. The vision nearly took me off my feet. I had to fall back on the couch.

I gulped. That vision could only meant one thing. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach ever since Denise had explained what had happened to Michelle.

I buried my head in my hands and just cried. Whoever that man was, he took away my little princess. I couldn't believe it was only a few hours that we'd seen her last. I didn't want to believe we'd never see her again. Michelle brought joy to our lives that none of could do.

Becky came back downstairs. "I put Nicky and Alex down for their nap and – Danny, you okay?" she asked, running to me. She began rubbing my arm and started to cry along with me.

I sighed. Without missing a beat, I told just what was on my mind, "Becky, I think Michelle may be dead," I told her.


	5. The Vigil

Chapter Four

The Vigil

Two weeks later on November 9, Michelle hadn't been found. The police, plus some volunteers were looking all over the city, with no sign of her.

Meanwhile, my family and I were panicking.

"How long does it take to find someone?" Stephanie complained one day. "It makes me want to take matters into my own hands."

"The police are just doing their jobs, honey," Becky told her.

"Yeah, I understand that, but why is it taking them so long? I feel miserable just sitting here and waiting for the police to do something when God knows what could hap"

Stephanie cut herself off and bit her lip, trying hard not to cry.

"Dad, can't we just try to find a way to comfort each other? I know we're not the only ones who miss Michelle. Michelle was a vital part to the neighborhood."

I nodded, hiding my surprise to Stephanie's choice of word. Stephanie had referred Michelle as a _was_, not an _is_. It just let me know that Stephanie somehow knew Michelle was never coming back.

"I have an idea, Dad," Stephanie said.

A vigil was planned a week later. Stephanie planned it and we adults promoted it. Becky and I explained a little about it on our talk show and Jesse and Joey did as well on their radio show, The Rush Hour Renegades.

The story of Michelle's kidnapping ran throughout the city of San Francisco. People we didn't even know were calling us via the TV show or the radio show, wishing us well and giving us their thoughts and prayers. People were writing us and mailing us things. Kids were sending us drawings of Michelle and letters and cards.

It wasn't long before Michelle's story drew nationwide. Somehow, our story had grown from a local tragedy into a national one. People from states such as Florida and Rhode Island were writing to us, expressing their sadness and horror over Michelle's disappearance. One letter that struck my attention was from a little girl Michelle's age that lived in New York City:

_Hi. My name is Olivia Kendall and I am nine years old, too. I heard about what happened to Michelle on the news. My family and I watched it and we are sorry. I wish I could meet Michelle. She looked like a really nice girl. I hope they find Michelle soon. _

_I am sorry about Michelle. My family and I are praying for you!_

_Love,_

_Olivia_

I kept that letter for a long time in my memory box full of Michelle's things plus Michelle-related objects. I laminated the letter and put it into the box.

I was able to meet Olivia years later, along with the rest of her family, when she was twenty years old. To this day, we have remained friends.

"Michelle would have been thrilled and overwhelmed to find out just how many people really care about her," Gia commented one day as Claire and I went through a whole box of mail.

It really surprised me to hear Gia say those words. I was so touched; I hugged her and told her how surprised I was. Gia hardly ever had any nice things to say about Michelle.

"Hey, just because we fought all the time, doesn't mean I didn't love her. She was a really cool little stepsister. And I'm gonna miss her," she mused.

We nodded in agreement.

On Sunday, Stephanie came home later than usual. "Sorry I'm so late," she explained breathlessly. "But I was at the City Hall with the mayor. He called me from my school and told me that he wants to have a city vigil, but now it looks like we're going to have a national vigil."

"A national vigil? How'd he pull that off?" Jesse asked.

"He didn't. All those national TV bigwigs volunteered to cover Michelle's disappearance and help fund a national vigil. The mayor said something about having people light candles all across the country at the vigil."

I cried bittersweet tears. It made me feel happy to know there were people all across the country that actually cared about my princess.

Gia was right. Michelle would have been absolutely surprised and overwhelmed to receive all the support that was being given.

On November 13, the nationwide vigil began. NBC showed up in front of our door to interview us. People Magazine were begging us to do some photo shots and coverage for their magazine. Quite frankly, I didn't want there to be a lot of media around. Our neighborhood looked like a media circus, but there was nothing I could do about all the attention.

But I was concerned for my daughter. At the vigil, there were people we knew and people we didn't.

Kimmy Gibbler, the most irritating female on the planet (and just so happened to be D.J.'s best friend) was there with her parents, holding candles and setting down teddy bears. D.J.'s boyfriend, Steven Hale was there as well. Steve and D.J. had gotten back together after a major fallout, but he was there, supporting D.J. and showing concern for Michelle. Steve set down a card with a heart on the front of it.

"Man, I loved that girl, Mr. Tanner. I'll be truly sorry if she's gone forever," he said, his face grim.

Michelle had had a slight crush on Steve. She even thought he wanted to marry her, so she planned a huge 'wedding' and 'married' him, even though she was the only one who thought it was real.

Kimmy was sitting with D.J., glancing at all the candles and trinkets people had left for Michelle. D.J. was sobbing openly and Kimmy was soothing her, crying herself. Denise and her family came by and lit a candle for Michelle. Derek, a slightly haughty kid in Michelle's classroom left his picture near a candle his mother had lit for him. He had the card Michelle was going to give him in his hands.

Teddy and Aaron, Michelle's other two boy friends, left a homemade macaroni necklace Michelle had made in the first grade. Mrs. Richardson and her twin son and daughter were there, too. The three of them left dolls made of old cloth.

People I didn't even know were setting down teddy bears and Barbie dolls. Girls were waiting in line to give us dolls and letters and boys were sending us teddy bears. The mayor gave me a gold locket.

"For good luck, Mr. Tanner. I certainly do hope they find your daughter. And don't you worry; we'll find the man responsible for this."

One of Michelle's friends, a girl with short blond hair approached me. It was Lisa Leeper. She was holding up a patchwork angel doll with blond hair.

"Mr. Tanner? I want you to have this doll. Michelle bought it for me when I was home sick with the mumps, but I don't want it anymore. Every time I look at it, it makes me hurt inside. Here, take it," she said, nearly thrusting it at me. I could tell she was trying hard not to cry.

Then she started to cry. She put a hand over her mouth and ran away, leaving me alone standing there with the doll in my hand.

I gave the doll a further glance. The doll was dressed up as an angel, but it was made to look like Lisa. I remembered now. Michelle's doll was made at one of those shops that made dolls look like the owner or buyer.

Perhaps Lisa gave me the doll because it was an angel and that's what Michelle probably was.

Even Lisa knew Michelle wasn't going to come back home.

After the vigil, it was later announced that it had reached not only across the United States, but even the rest of the world.

I could hear Michelle now: _Whoa, baby! All this for** me**?_


	6. Found

Chapter Five

Found

Michelle's 9th birthday came and went. No sign of the usual birthday cake and presents or party favors and decorations. No friends and distant family members dropping by to help celebrate. A 9th birthday was supposed to be a big milestone for Michelle. She couldn't wait to finally turn ten, but now that she wasn't here to celebrate it, it made us even more sad and upset to know that.

And now Thanksgiving was coming up. We hadn't even thought about it. My mother had invited us to her house for the holiday, but we declined. We didn't want to go anywhere until Michelle was found.

My mom understood. "I just hoped you'd come just so it'd take your mind off all the stress, but I understand, sweetheart. But if you ever need anything, just call me, okay?"

"Yes, Mom. Thanks. I love you."

"Love you, too. I'll see you soon."

"Okay."

Since no one was in the holiday mood to cook, we all ate frozen dinners that Thanksgiving night.

Nicky and Alex wailed. "There are peas in my applesauce!" Alex whined.

"There are peas everywhere, honey," Becky said to him.

Nicky pushed his food away. "I don't want this," he replied.

"Why not?" Jesse asked him. "You guys have to eat your veggies."

"No!"

"And why not?" Becky questioned him sharply.

"'Cause we don't like them. And Michelle doesn't like them, either!"

"Well, dear. Michelle isn't he"

"Where is Michelle, anyway?" Nicky asked.

Becky looked at the rest of us for advice. Jesse nodded to her encouragingly.

"We don't know, sweetie," she said.

"Why not?" Alex wanted to know.

"We haven't seen her in a long time. We miss her," Nicky added, playing with his corn.

Becky turned to us sadly. Then she turned back to her sons. "We'll talk about it later, you guys. But for now, let's get you cleaned up."

She picked up the boys and led them away upstairs.

After she'd left, Stephanie turned to Jesse and spoke, "You guys didn't tell them yet, Uncle Jesse?" she asked.

Jesse sighed. "Steph, the boys are very little. They're too young to understand what's going on right now. Even if Becky and I tried explaining things to them a million times, they'd never understand. And besides, we don't know if Michelle's dead or alive, so we're waiting to tell them when the time is right."

I sighed. I hadn't even thought about how Nicky and Alex would take the news. Maybe Jesse was right. Maybe it was better to explain things to them when we knew more about what had happened to Michelle. In the meantime, all we could do was wait.

* * *

It was late November when I got the news that changed my whole life forever. Around noon, I received a phone call from Officer Hacker-Weissman, the woman who had interviewed Denise.

"Mr. Tanner, this Abigail Hacker-Weissman, from the San Francisco Police Department. We…this is about Michelle. We found her today," she said.

I breathed a sigh of relief I felt I had been holding onto for centuries. "Oh, thank goodness," I said. "Well, is she alright?" Michelle couldn't have been dead, after all!

"Uh, well…"

It seemed Officer Hacker-Weissman was hemming and hawing. And I couldn't understand why. If Michelle was okay, then why was she hesitating to tell me?

"Mr. Tanner, at six o' clock this morning, a young couple from Oakland was walking in a city park and…and…"

I was getting impatient. "And what? What happened? Officer, where is my daughter?" I snapped.

"Mr. Tanner, the couple found Michelle's body hidden in a grassy knoll near the bike path. Her body was slightly decomposed, but it evident she had been raped because the killer had removed every article of clothing and placed her in a very suggestive, sexual position. An autopsy will be done tomorrow to conclude her cause of death. Mr. Tanner, I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I_ really_ am."

I dropped the phone from my hand. I had had a small glimmer of hope that my daughter was still alive out there, but now my biggest nightmare had become a reality. I couldn't believe it. And I didn't want to believe it.

My little princess. My pride and joy. She was…gone.

I quietly thanked Officer Hacker-Weissman and hung up the phone, feeling my knees go weak. Silent tears fell down my cheeks. Then I just started crying loudly.

_Michelle is gone and is never coming back, _I thought miserably.

The rest of the family arrived downstairs from the kitchen when they heard me crying and saw me weeping uncontrollably.

"Danny! Honey, what hap" Claire began to ask.

"Michelle is…Michelle is…"

I could hardly say the word. _Dead_.

But I didn't have to say anything. My family sensed it.

Claire rubbed my shoulders, her eyes full of tears. Stephanie and Jesse both looked at me with unbelieving eyes. Joey stared, speechless. D.J. put a hand over her mouth in shock. Gia put her hands over her face and sobbed.

After what seemed like hours of silence, I decided it was time to speak the truth.

"Michelle was murdered," I said gravely. "Her body was found today."

Jesse walked out of the living room into the kitchen and began punching the wall, crying.

Joey fell into one of the chairs and buried his face into his hands. Claire and Becky huddled with the girls and sobbed.

Nicky and Alex tugged at their mother's shirtsleeve. I had forgotten they were here with us. "Mommy, what is going on? Where's Michelle?"

At their age, kids like Alex and Nicky felt their parents knew everything about everything. The twins expected them to answer this very hard question. We understood death, but they did not. They had never experience it like the rest of us had. But since they knew and loved Michelle just as much as we did, we couldn't keep it a secret from them any longer. They had to find out sooner or later.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around her sons. I knew there was no easy way for her to explain to the boys that they'd never see their cousin again.

"Guys, Michelle's gone," she answered.

"Gone? Gone where?" Alex asked, looking confused.

"Michelle's an angel, sweetie."

"What's an angel?" Nicky asked.

"Well, an angel is an invisible spirit that looks over the people they love and care about. They watch over them all the time."

"Where do they live, Mommy?" Alex asked.

"In Heaven, sweetheart."

"Where's Heaven?"

"It's invisible, but it's where God and all the other good people live. Heaven is in the clouds and that's Michelle's home now."

"How do people get to Heaven?" Nicky asked.

"They first have to have a good heart and be a very good person. Then they have to die."

"What's that?" Both twins asked, frowning with confusion. "What's die?"

"Well…when anything dies, it never comes back. It's gone forever."

"_Never_ come back?" Alex asked in disbelieve.

Becky shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "But honey, Michelle may be gone in body, but she's still with us. Just in a new form. She's a spirit now and she's gonna stay with you and the rest of us for a long time. She's watching over us right now, okay? Michelle's in a happier place now and she's happy. Michelle loved us, so don't you forget that, okay?"

"But we don't want Michelle to be gone! We want Michelle to come back home!" Alex cried out, burying his face into his mother's shoulder.

"Me, too!" Nicky added. He, too, cried into his mother's shoulder.

"I know, honey, I know!" She sobbed. "I'm going to miss Michelle, too!"

From the kitchen, I could hear Jesse wailing. I went in to see if he was okay.

He wasn't. He was on his knees, kneeling in front of the kitchen floor.

He turned to me and pulled me down on the floor so I could kneel with him.

"Why her, Danny? Why _her_? Michelle was such a good kid. Why'd it have to be _her_?" He asked.

The two of us embraced. "She was such a good kid…She didn't deserve to die…My niece, my beautiful niece," he said, his voice muffled by pressing his face into my shoulder.

When the rest of the family saw us wrapped tightly together, they joined us and together, we mourned over the lost of a young girl who had brought love and light into our house, now to be suddenly turned off. It was a very unsettling thought.


	7. Plans

Chapter Seven

Plans

"How should we say good-bye to Michelle?" Becky asked, notebook and pencil in hand.

The family were sitting around at the kitchen table, discussing plans for Michelle's funeral. Quite frankly, I didn't even want to plan it. All I wanted was to close my eyes and pray that this nightmare was all just a dream. _Someone wake me from this dream_, I thought.

"Dad? You okay?" D.J. asked, touching my arm lightly.

I gazed at her. "I'm fine," I told her dazedly.

D.J. shook her head stubbornly. "No, you're not. Let me take you upstairs. You need some time to yourself for awhile. _We'll_ finish planning."

And with that, my oldest daughter whisked me away upstairs into the master bedroom. She hugged me and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, Dad. I wish I could help you. It hurts me to see you like this. You're an emotional wreck and I hate it."

She let go of our embrace and struggled to smile at me. "Michelle was full of smiles, so I think she'd hate to see us all sad and sappy." She laughed bitterly and turned to go. "Let me know if you need anything, Dad," she said.

She left the room and closed the door softly, leaving me alone in the room.

I took a look around the bedroom. All around it, on nearly every inch of the wall, were family photos. A picture of Pam with D.J. and Stephanie on Mother's Day. My mother and father at D.J.'s high school graduation. Nicky and Alex on Halloween, dressed as Elvis. Becky and Jesse on their wedding day. Joey in his Ranger Joe costume with Mr. Woodchuck, his puppet. Papouli, Jesse's great-grandfather with Joey and me on his birthday. D.J., Kimmy and Steve at D.J.'s going-away-from-home party.

And me with Michelle celebrating hereighthbirthday a year ago. I took that picture off the wall and stared at it. _She looks beautiful_, I thought. Michelle was wearing a lime-green sundress with matching flip-flops and her hair was in a ponytail. But most beautiful of all was her smile. Michelle's smile was absolutely gloryfing. Her smile could light up a room and that's what I was going to miss most of all about her.

The tears started. I hugged the picture close to me and cried like I'd never cried before. Jesse was right. Michelle didn't deserve to die. Frightened images of Michelle's last moments overwhelmed me. I wondered what that man did to her. How did he kill her? Did he find pleasure in what he was doing? Why did he decide to kill her? Why did he kidnap her in the first place? All these questions frustrated me to the point when I wanted to scream. This man had kidnapped, raped and killed my little baby and I had no answers as to why he did it. Whoever he was, was somewhere and I didn't know who it was. It frustrated me to know that he could be around anywhere. I had to find justice and I had to find it soon.

Not just for me and my family, but for Michelle, too.

* * *

I was sitting at the picnic table outside, by myself. It was a warm, sunny day. 

I was just sitting there, watching the clouds. I was in my own little world. So much so, I didn't hear a voice.

The voice sounded so familar to me. It sounded like a little girl's voice. "Hi, Daddy," the voice said to me. It sounded a lot like Michelle.

"Michelle?" I asked, hardly believing my ears.

I turned around and there she was! My beautiful daughter. She looked glowing, as if a a white light had been shining all around her.

Michelle giggled.

"'Course it's me. Dad, I missed you!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around me.

"I missed you, too, sweetie. Where have you been?" I asked, hardly believing my eyes.

Michelle pointed up towards the sky. "Up there," she answered simply.

"Where?" I asked, confusedly.

"Up there, Daddy. In Heaven."

My heart sank. I was dreaming again?

"You mean...you mean..."

"Daddy, listen to me. I know you're sad that I'm not here with you anymore. I know you're upset about how I left, but I just want you and everyone to know is that I'm okay. I'm not sad. I'm at peace and I'm fine, so I don't want you to worry about me. Besides, it's not so bad where I am. I have new friends and He takes care of me, so I'll be okay. All I want you to do is smile. Smile for me and everything will be fine. Tell everyone else for me, Daddy, okay? Tell them I love them and I always will. I love you, too, Dad."

I hugged her again, as if it were the last thing on Earth. "I love you, too, Michelle. Good-bye," I said, tears falling down my cheeks.

"Dad, you're squeezing me too hard!" Michelle said, muffled by my chest.

"Sorry," I apologized.

"Dad, before I go, I only have one last thing to say," Michelle said after I'd finally let go of her.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'd really like to be buried next to Mom. I finally met her and she loves me already. But when you bury me, _please_ bury me next to her. It means a lot to her and to me."

"You got it, dude," I said to her jokingly. Michelle had used that phrase a lot when she was little.

She smiled. "Mom and Papouli said hello, Daddy. They love you, too."

"Well, you tell them I love them, too!" I said, wiping the tears away from my face.

Michelle smiled at me and waved. "'Bye, Dad. I love you!" She blew me a kiss.

I waved to my little princess until she faded from sight.

I smiled a little. I was happy for Michelle. She was in a place where she was loved, safe and happy. But even still, I was unbelievingly sad to know she wasn't going to be here with us on Earth ever again.

* * *

"Danny...Danny...wake up...Danny..." Claire was waking me up. 

I sat straight up from bed. "Claire! I had a dream about Michelle. She came to me and she talked to me. Claire, Michelle seemed to be very happy. Why?"

Claire rubbed my shoulder. "Danny, I just think Michelle is at peace with what's happened to her. Heaven is the only true perfect world, where there no such horrors as the ones she's faced and your's. If you're worried she'll forget about us, that's really unlikely. The dead never forget their loved ones. So, Michelle will never stop loving you, just like you'll never stop loving her."

"You're right. I'll never stop loving her. I'm a little happy for her because I know she's in good hands with God."

Claire nodded. "That's really the only thing you've got to know, honey. Is that Michelle's happy. What else did she tell you?"

"Well, she told me that she loved me and that she was at peace. Then she asked me..." I gulped, sighing.

"What?" Claire questioned.

"She wants me to bury her next to Pam."

Claire looked at me thoughtfully. "Well, honey. I think you should take her request. If Michelle were at her deathbed and asked for the same request, would you do it?"

"Of course," I replied. "In a heartbeat."

"Well, Michelle didn't die a natural death, so she wasn't thinking of her last wishes. I feel the dream you had was a out-of-body experience. What she was telling you was real, so I think you should follow her request."

I nodded. "I will. What else did you guys decide?" I asked, trying to change the subject a little.

Claire glanced at Becky's notebook. "We decided to bury Michelle in a white casket with gold trim around it. Jesse, D.J., Joey and Steve are going to pick it up in two days. Becky, Stephanie, Gia and I are going to the dress shop and the florist. We need to pick up Michelle's white dress and some white roses."

I smiled faintly. "Wow. She's going to look like an angel," I replied.

Claire gave me a faint smile back. "That's the whole purpose, honey," she said softly. "Because she is one."


	8. Final Goodbye

Chapter Eight

Final Goodbye

Michelle's funeral was four days later, on Thursday, November 30, 1995.

Those past four days were the worst of my life. My mom came over to stay with us for awhile, only until we could get ourselves situated again. She helped with cooking, cleaning and with the funeral arrangements.

When everything was set, we all knew it was time to go.

During those hellish four days of not sleeping, I knew I was ready to say good-bye to Michelle. I had willed myself to be ready. After all, it was what she wanted, so I was going to do it.

_But it's still going to be hard to see her in that casket_, I thought. I bit my lip, trying hard not to cry in front of everyone. We were all in the living room, sitting in silence, but we were thinking the same thing.

Nicky and Alex hardly acted like themselves the weeks after Michelle's death. The twins used to be loud and rambunctious, but after awhile, we noticed how quiet and demure they suddenly were.

Jesse stopped playing music. After Michelle's death, he felt he just didn't have it in him to play music. And he couldn't see himself singing and writing depressing songs. Joey didn't act like himself, either. He wasn't imitating his favorite cartoon character voices and he wasn't joking and kidding around anymore like he used to. In fact, no one was really acting like themselves. It made me feel even more depressed, so I tried blocking it from my mind.

The honk from our limo waiting outside awoke me from my thoughts. We all looked at each other, none of us wanting to leave the house.

Becky stood up, smoothed out her black dress and walked towards the door, holding Alex.

The rest of us followed her outside and walked towards the limo. Becky stopped suddenly and gasped.

Standing right outside, looked to be at least several hundred people, right in front of our door. It was just like the vigil, only more crowded.

Kimmy Gibbler, D.J.'s best friend stepped forward, wearing a black tube dress and a pair of white stiletto-heeled sandals. She grinned at us.

"Mr. T, these guys are coming to the funeral," she announced, flourishing with her arm at the huge crowd.

"But -" I began.

"They just want to show support, Mr. T. I arranged for everyone to be here with you. They just want you how much they care."

I couldn't help but smile at Kimmy. As annoying and irritating as she was, I was happy she understood how much Michelle meant to everybody who knew her.

Kimmy had always made fun of Michelle, but now I know, deep down, Kimmy really loved her. The Tanners were the family I think Kimmy wished she had. And what she's done had meant a lot.

I grabbed Kimmy and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Kimmy," I said. "Michelle would have really liked this."

I didn't care about my past relationship with Kimmy. All I was thinking about how to strengthen it. I wanted to start fresh and start a clean slate with her.

If Michelle's death has taught me anything, it's to cherish the family and friends around you now, because life is not promised.

* * *

We rode to the funeral home in silence, with the crowd of people following behind us in their cars. It must have been quite a spectacle, to see the whole neighborhood following a limousine. 

It was Jesse who broke the silence. "I think we should sing at Michelle's funeral," he suggested.

"What?" Joey asked.

A thought came to me. "Her favorite song growing up. _The Teddy Bear Song_," I said, smiling.

Stephanie nodded in agreement. "Yeah. She really loved that song. You guys should sing it," she said.

I nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I guess we can," I replied.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, our limo pulled up in front of the funeral home. Claire took my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed it back. 

Right outside our limo, strangers stood outside it. Photographers and reporters, apparently ready to talk to us or take a picture of us as we stepped out of the car.

I wanted to shoo them all away. This was supposed to be a family moment and I didn't want it to be made a media circus.

In the sea of strangers, I noticed the Frazier family walking out of the funeral home.

Denise spotted us and ran to us. "Good morning, everyone," she said.

We said our hellos to her.

"Did you see Michelle yet?" I asked.

Denise shook her head. "I'm too scared to, but my parents did. They said she looks pretty."

"What are you so scared of?" I asked.

"I've never seen a dead person before. I don't know what Michelle will look like. Will she look the same?"

I bit my lip. I wasn't sure.

"I don't really know, Denise. But we're here to pay our respects to Michelle. She was your best friend, so don't you think you own it her to pay your respects to her?"

Denise frowned. "It's just makes me feel bad to see her like that. I wish I could have helped her more. If I did…then…"

She gulped loudly, trying her best not to cry.

Denise was feeling guilty about what had happened to Michelle.

I took her hand. "Would you like to come with me to see Michelle? You can kneel and talk to her if you want to. Would you like to do that?" I asked.

Denise looked up at me and nodded. "Okay," she whispered.

Joey rubbed her back. "Let's go, Denise," he replied.

We all proceeded up the stairs into the funeral home.

H.R Williams Funeral Home is probably the one of the most well-known funeral homes in San Francisco. Herbert Williams, Jr. and his family have run the funeral home for 60 years. They have had the reputation for being the most responsible, caring, honest, sophisticated funeral home in the city. Their rooms where the funerals are held are grand, elegant and very charming.

Becky and D.J. decided that together that there was no better place to have a funeral for Michelle then at H.R.'s

When we walked inside, we all gasped when we saw her. There was my little girl, lying in her little white and gold casket, her little hands folded, touching her chest.

Michelle was wearing the flowing white dress that was picked out for her, a wreath of white roses on top of her head. Her eyes were closed shut.

Denise looked at me, with a look that clearly said, _Should I?_

I nodded encouragingly. "I'll go with you," I said.

We stepped forward and kneeled in front of Michelle's body on the kneeler.

Looking even closer, Michelle didn't quite look like Michelle. I'll tell you, it's not easy looking at your dead child, but I wanted to be strong, for Denise's sake.

I knew the makeup people had tried their best to make Michelle look more like her when she was alive, but it still didn't do it any justice. She was much paler, from what I remember.

Denise clasped her hands together and began to pray. "Michelle, this is Denise. I just want you to know that I'm sorry about what happened to you. I tried my best to help you, but I couldn't. I miss you. You were the best friend I ever had and I love you. Teddy, Aaron, Lisa and everyone else at school misses you and wish you were here. I hope you are happy where you are now. We all love you, Michelle."

Then, Denise kissed Michelle's forehead and put a folded up piece of paper in her casket.

I never knew what Denise had written. I figured it was something between the two of them that I shouldn't interfere with.

After Denise had left, I realized it was just me, Joey and Jesse. The girls had sat down in front of us, crying and consoling each other.

"She really looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Joey asked, looking at Michelle.

Jesse didn't answer. He reached out and took Michelle's hand and knelt down.

He knelt there for awhile, holding her hand. The two of us knelt with him.

Jesse kissed Michelle's hand and started weeping. "Michelle, you don't know how much I miss you. Just between you and me, you were always my favorite niece, so don't tell Stephanie, D.J. or Gia. I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss…everything about you. You don't know how much I want you back. I love you…" Jesse continued talking, his body nearly falling into the casket.

Joey and I had to grab Jesse to keep him from falling over. When Jesse was done, he walked to his seat.

Joey kneeled and silently looked at Michelle. Then he turned to me. "There's so much I want to say, but I feel at a loss for words. I still can't believe Michelle's here, in this casket."

Joey blew out a deep breath. "Michelle knows how much I love her," he replied. He put his hand over his eyes. He took something out of his pocket and placed it in between Michelle's stiff hands.

"It's a poem I wrote when Michelle was little," he explained to me.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," I replied, a little stunned.

Joey shrugged. "Michelle did," he replied. He silently left.

It was just me with Michelle. I kneeled down next to her face and smiled sadly.

"I promised you I'd smile, honey," I said to her. "But I don't know if you know how hard it is. You were my princess and I had the time of my life raising you. I never thought I'd have to see you like this, Michelle. Life without you won't be the same. D.J, Stephanie, Gia, Joey, Jesse, Becky, Claire and the twins miss you terribly. Denise, Teddy, Aaron, Derek and all of your other friends miss you so much. But I miss you even more. I miss you every second of every minute of everyday. It makes me incredibly horrible to know you'll miss out on the rest of your life. No graduation from elementary school. No boyfriends. No algebra homework. No girl-talks with your sisters. No driver's license. No high school prom. No graduation. No leaving home from college."

I grasped her hand. "You missed out the reminder of your life. That's what makes me angry."

That anger made my face turn red. I squeezed Michelle's hand. "I'm gonna fight for you, Michelle. I'm gonna find the person who did this to you. Justice will be served. You have my word," I said.

I looked at her one last time. Then I looked inside the bag I'd brought with me. I took out Michelle's old stuffed pink pig she'd named Pinky.

I placed it next to her. "Thought you might like to have a nice keepsake from home," I replied. "Good-bye, Michelle," I told her. "I love you."

As soon as I turned away, I burst into tears. I sat down next to Jesse and watched the rest of the mourners walk by and view Michelle's body.

Steve came by and kneeled next to Michelle's body and said a prayer. When he was done, he spotted us and immediately hugged me.

"Mr. Tanner, I am so sorry," he replied. He brushed the tears from his face. "I loved Michelle," he added.

"Thank you, Steve."

He nodded and took his seat next to D.J.

More and more mourners came by. Pretty soon, the parlor was packed full. And all of it was for a little girl.

My heart was bursting with grief _and _happiness. Hundreds of people came to support us and Michelle. It was a little overwhelming.

The funeral was very lovely. Denise, Lisa, Derek and Lacey Lynn started things off with a song they had been practicing. They chose to sing _I Will Always Love You, _a song I'd always liked. Dolly Parton was the original artist, but the song was really made popular by Whitney Houston.

Then the preacher spoke, using various words from the Bible. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He leadeth me beside still waters..." he spoke softly.

Then various people stood up and spoke about Michelle briefly. Lots of people I didn't even know or remembered spoke about Michelle briefly.

For instance, Michelle's former kindergarten teacher spoke. "I remembered a picture Michelle had drawn in class. We were drawing pictures of the things that made us happy. And she drew a picture of the Sun. I asked her about it and she told me that the Sun is full of happiness and light. Whenever it was grey or cloudy, she hated it. And that picture was exactly like Michelle. Michelle was just like she described in her picture. She was full of happiness and light. So whenever you look up into the sky and see a clear, blue sky with the Sun shining through, just know that Michelle is still here with us. She is not gone, like we think."

I beamed. It made me feel good to know Michelle had made such an impact on people's lives.

Then Jesse and his and his band, Hot Daddy and The Monkey Puppets performed Jesse's first hit song, _Forever_. Then Gia, Kimmy and Stephanie sang _Wind Beneath My Wings _by Bette Midler, done acappella.

Others read poetry and sang songs. It was clearly a wonderful moment.

After the last song had been sung, the funeral parlor director stepped forward. "If I may have your attention please," he announced. "We would like everyone to vacate the parlor. We will be moving the casket to the hearse to depart from here to the cemetery, so we'd really appreciate it. You may have one last chance to view the body if you like."

We stood up.

Stephanie, D.J. and Gia stood up first to look at Michelle's body one last time. Stephanie kissed the top of Michelle's forehead. D.J. followed suit along with Gia. Then they left.

Becky, Jesse and the twins looked at her. Joey. Steve. Kimmy. Denise and her family...Until it was finally me. I wanted to be alone with her.

I'd said all I wanted to say to her. I just wanted to look at her.

I put my hand to her cheek. It was cold, like the rest of her body. I looked around at the assortment of flowers surrounding her. Her white gown.

It was all a beautiful sight. Michelle looked like a sleeping angel. "Good-bye, my little angel princess," I whispered to her. Then I silently left.

* * *

At the cemetery, we listened to the preacher recite the last words from the Bible before we all watched Michelle's casket lower itself into the ground. Just as Michelle requested, she was buried right next to Pam. 

Watching that scene made us all realize that this was indeed the last we'd see of Michelle. Each member of the family tossed a single white rose into the hole.

After the crowd had gone, it was only the family. We watched as the gravediggers covered Michelle's plot with newly fresh dirt and then place her stone in place.

Michelle's stone was the same color as her stuffed pig, Pinky.

It read:

_**Michelle Elisabeth Tanner**_

_**November 16, 1986 - October 19, 1995**_

_**Our Little Princess**_

_**"You Got It, Dude!"**_

"Is this really it?" Stephanie asked, touching Michelle's marker.

I nodded, touching her shoulder. "Yes, it is," I said.

"Michelle's really gone?" she asked.

I nodded, almost in disbelief. "Yes," I replied.

Joey and Jesse each put an arm around my shoulder. "Danny, let's sing something," Joey suggested.

"We'll sing Michelle's favorite song," Jesse suggested.

And so we did. The three of us sang _The Teddy Bear Song_, a song Michelle loved when she was a kid.

After the song was over, I felt Becky tap me on the shoulder. "Look, Danny!" she exclaimed.

"What?" I asked.

Becky pointed up towards the sky.

We all took a glance. The sky was a perfect blue, without a cloud in sight. Plus, the Sun was shining brightly.

Jesse and everyone else looked at each other in astonishment.

"Well, you what that means," I replied. "What Michelle's kindergarten teacher said was right; Michelle was never gone. She's still here with us."


	9. A Lead

Chapter Nine

A Lead

A week and a half after Michelle's funeral, our home slowly began to piece together the rest of our lives. D.J. had gone back to Stanford and the rest of us tried to get back to normal.

Jesse decided he wanted to take a mini-vacation in Oregon to help clear his mind, so Becky and the twins went with him. Joey's mother called, begging to spend time with him, so he relented and left. Claire, Stephanie and Gia went window-shopping in Downtown San Francisco.

That only left me at home alone. To get my mind off Michelle, I decided to spend the rest of the day cleaning up the house.

I gathered all of my cleaning utensils and liquids. Then I got to work. I scrubbed the kitchen floors. I wiped down the cabinets and countertops and the table. I washed the dishes. I scrubbed the walls and ceilings.

Without missing a beat, I ran straight into the living room and began vacuuming the floor and carpet.

The doorbell rang.

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone else. After the funeral, we'd been getting nonstop visits from more media, both local and national. ABC wanted this. CNN wanted that. _Blah, blah, blah_. I was sick of it all. All I wanted was some peace and I was getting none of it.

When I opened the door, there stood a tall, brown-haired, middle-aged woman close to my age standing at the door.

I had no idea who she was, but whoever she was, had to go.

"Mr. Tanner? Hello, my name is Cortney Richardson. I live down the street. I have two children who were friends with your daughter. My daughter, Lacey Lynn sang at her funeral."

I knew Lacey Lynn. Michelle had often invited her over to hang around until Lacey Lynn's parents got home from work.

"Oh, yes. Would you like to come in?" I asked, offering her a seat.

Cortney nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Tanner. This won't take long, I swear. I – Are you cleaning?" she asked, taking a brief look around the living room.

I nodded.

"Oh. Well. Then I'll just leave," she said, beginning to walk out the door.

"No. Not at all. I mean, you came all this way. What is it you want to talk to me about?" I asked.

Cortney took a seat. "Well, I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Michelle. I wasn't in this neighborhood that long, but Michelle was just a cutie pie. In fact, she was the first friend Jason and Lacey Lynn ever made. We moved here from Kenner, Louisiana. It was my husband, the kids and I. My husband, Thomas Allen, he lost his job in Kenner. But he received a job offer here in San Francisco."

I nodded briefly, wondering why this woman was yapping on and on about her life. Didn't she see I wasn't interested?

"Anyway, the twins were devastated about what happened to Michelle. They didn't really have any friends in Kenner; so of course, they were upset when they heard Michelle passed away. I comforted them as much I as I could, but their father…he hasn't been around. Ever since that new job, he's been here and there, there and here. Nobody in the neighborhood has ever seen him before. And "

"Mrs. Richardson, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what is it you want to tell me?" I asked tersely.

"Mr. Tanner, I just wanted to know if you'd seen him. I figured he'd be here to pay his respects to Michelle, figuring Lacey Lynn and Michelle was such good friends. You haven't seen him?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No, Mrs. Richardson."

Cortney bit her lip, looking disappointed. "Oh. Well, if you see him, here's his picture. He's been missing for three weeks and I can't even place a finger on him. Thank you, Mr. Tanner."

"Thank you, Mrs. Richardson," I said.

After she'd closed the door, I took a brief glance at the picture and then tossed it on the table.

Then I got back to cleaning up, shaking my head. _What a weird woman_, I thought, thinking about Cortney Richardson.

Joey returned from his visit with his mother later that evening. He took a look around the living room.

"Ah, so I see you've cleaned up, Danny," he remarked.

"Yeah, a little," I said.

Joey rolled his eyes. "_A little_. Yeah, right," he replied.

"How was your visit with your mom?" I asked.

"It was okay. Mom cooked all my favorite foods. Plus, I managed to eat three ice cream sundaes after dinner,"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Pig," I replied.

"And proud of it," Joey added.

He took a seat on the couch and leaned back. "Ah, am I stuffed," he replied.

I just shook my head and sat opposite him in a chair.

"Hey, Danny? Who's this guy?" Joey asked, picking up the picture I'd tossed on the table earlier.

"That's Cortney Richardson's husband. You know, the mother of the little girl and boy from Louisiana that Michelle used to bring over here to play?"

"Oh. Lacey Lynn and Jason. This guy's their father? Looks pretty young to be their dad. I don't think I've met him before."

"No one has. Mrs. Richardson says he's been missing for three weeks now. I can't _believe_ her. I'm still mourning over Michelle and she has the nerve to ask me if I've seen her husband? Who does she think she i"

"This guy, somehow, looks familiar to me, Danny. Doesn't he to you?" Joey asked, handing me the photo.

In the photo, Thomas Allen Richardson was standing next to a pickup truck, posing with his friends and grinning. He didn't look at all familiar to me.

"Should he be?" I asked.

"Danny, call me crazy, but I think this may the guy who…killed Michelle," he said.

I shook my head. "Don't be ridiculous, Joey. What makes you think that?"

"Well, you don't know about this, but after the vigil, I was with Denise when a news correspondent talked to her and asked her about the man's description. And she gave it to him."

"And what did he look like?" I asked imputatively.

"Denise said he had black hair, a black beard and green eyes. She also added that he was pretty tall, which is how he is in this picture."

I grabbed the picture from Joey and took a long look at it.

"_He was a White man. He had a black beard on the bottom on his chin and he had long black hair and green eyes..."_

Denise's description to the police that day Michelle was kidnapped was exactly how this man looked in the picture. He was tall; he had a black beard, black hair and green eyes.

I gasped. _Could it be_? I thought. Could this man be Michelle's killer?

And why did he suddenly vanish? Was he on the run? Was he afraid someone was going to find him and charge him with murder?

"Joey, pick up the phone," I told him.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, handing it to me.

"If this man is the one who killed Michelle, then it's time that justice is being served," I said.


	10. The Interrogation

Chapter Ten

The Interrogation

The police were at my door in twenty-five minutes, taking notes about the previous events of the day. I told them about Cortney Richardson and her search for her husband.

Officer Hacker-Weissman was there that day, sitting on the couch while drinking a cup of coffee and taking notes.

"This Cortney character sounds like she may be a suspect, Mr. Tanner. We need to question her," she replied.

"Suspect? How can she be a suspect if she's looking for her husband?" I asked, looking confused and puzzled.

"Well, she may be lying about her husband, Mr. Tanner. Perhaps she really does know where her husband is and is trying to smuggle him out of the country or something? Harboring a criminal is against the law, Mr. Tanner. Anyone else, Officer Miller?" she asked, turning to an African-American man.

"We have to talk to Denise Frazier, just so she can confirm that this is the man she saw kidnap Mr. Tanner's daughter. And the Richardson children, maybe. And perhaps Mr. Richardson's old employees in Kenner might be some crucial sources," Officer Miller told her.

Officer Hacker-Weissman nodded. "Okay. And bring that photo of Mr. Richardson when we visit the Fraziers. Miller, can you call either the matriarch or the patriarch of the Frazier residence? We don't want to scare Miss Frazier if we just pop up, unannounced. She's very crucial to the case, but she's still a little girl."

She turned to me. "Mr. Tanner, it seems this case might be solved sooner than we think," she said to me.

"I hope it is. It'll help me sleep better knowing Michelle's killer will be brought to justice," I replied.

Officer Hacker-Weissman gave me a sympathetic look. "I, personally, would like to see this person brought to justice myself. What this person did to your daughter was very sick. Michelle didn't deserve to die like she did, but there's a reason for everything. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded. "I will," I said.

Officer Hacker-Weissman patted me on the back and walked out of the house along with the other officers.

Joey closed the door and stood next to me near the stairs. He blew out a breath.

"Do you think this is the man?" Joey asked.

I shrugged. "Could be," I replied.

Joey rubbed my back. "This is gonna be hard," he said.

I nodded in agreement, my face growing pale.

I was worried about Denise. I was hoping the officers weren't too harsh or persistent with her.

"I think we should go with them to the questioning," I said, rubbing my now sweaty hands on my pants.

"Officer Hacker-Weissman! Wait!" I yelled, running towards her police cruiser.

Officer Hacker-Weissman was talking to another officer before she looked up at me.

"Mr. Tanner, I wanted to talk to you about the case. The SFPD have decided to hire a murder detective to take special care of this case. The detective is a female who recently cracked down a murder of a seventeen-year-old boy in Florida two years ago. The crime was committed fifteen years before in the back of a bowling alley parking lot. I won't go into specific details about how she solved the crime, but I will tell you that she is more skilled than we are. Her name is Lindsay Wu and she's Bakersfield, California. She graduated from Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts and she majored in Law and Forensic Study. She will help you and you'll sleep much better at night, I'm sure."

She gave me a sympathetic glance. "You look very tired, Mr. Tanner," she replied.

She was right. I was. Every night, I was having horrible nightmares. Or when I wasn't having nightmares, I was up half the night, pondering on how Michelle died. What were her last words? Was she alone when she died? How was she killed?

And most importantly: Who killed her? And why?

Just thinking about it made my stomach turn. I clenched my fists.

"The SFPD will still be of assistance to Detective Wu, so don't worry if the other officers or I won't be around, because that won't be the case. The police chief phoned Wu an hour ago. She's waiting at the station and we called the Fraziers to let us have permission to talk to Denise. Denise and her family are waiting for us."

"I would like to come to the station. Just so I can watch over Denise. I'm worried about her."

Officer Hacker-Weissman nodded at me gravely. "Alright, Mr. Tanner. You can come. What about you, Mr. Gladstone?"

Joey shook his head. "No. That's okay, Officer. I'll be waiting right here. Claire and the girls should be here soon."

"Okay. I'll be back," I told him. "Tell them where I am."

Joey patted my shoulder. "Danny, it'll be okay. I know it," he replied.

I didn't answer. I just nodded to him and let Officer Hacker-Weissman lead me to a nearby police car.

I was inside the station, with Officer Miller and Officer Hacker-Weissman, inside the small investigation room. The room was painted a dark gray with only about six chairs around each square corner of the room. Right in the middle of the room, were a large square table and a small lamp in the middle of the table. And that was it.

Nervously, I took out a package of Kleenex and started wiping the table with it.

"Mr. Tanner, what are you doing?" Officer Hacker-Weissman asked.

I quickly tucked the tissue in my pocket. "Sorry, Officer. I'm just a little nervous," I explained.

"Don't worry. Everything'll be fine," she assured me.

I wasn't too convinced, though.

Ten minutes later, Denise showed up with her parents. Denise looked scared and worried. Her parents gripped an arm tightly around her, as if she were going to be grabbed away by the police.

Denise waved at me weakly. I waved back.

A minute later, a skinny, dark-haired Asian woman dressed in a grey suit and black flats appeared. She quickly spotted me and walked over to me.

"Mr. Tanner? It's nice to me you. I'm Detective Lindsay Wu, the one who's going to help solve the mystery of your daughter's murder," she said.

I shook her hand. "Yes. Officer Hacker-Weissman told me about you," I replied.

Detective Wu nodded. "Well, first off, I want to let you know about how sorry I am that this happened. We'll do whatever it takes to bring Michelle's murderer to justice."

"So, you're going to question Denise first?" I asked.

"Yes. We've got Cortney Richardson here as well, waiting to be called. And I tell you, she is _not_ happy."

"About what?" I asked.

"She's upset that we're questioning her and accusing her husband with murder, but you never know."

"Where do you think her husband went?" I asked.

"Beats me. I'd think a most likely place is probably back where he and his family previously lived before moving here. It was Louisiana, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Is Denise okay?" I asked.

"Denise is just fine. She understands that she's a big help in this case."

I took a peek at Denise. She was drinking from a juice box and looked quite content. One of the officers was talking to her parents.

I felt a little relieved.

Detective Wu looked at her watch. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Tanner," she replied. "It's time to begin."

"Oh, sure. Go right ahead," I said.

She smiled faintly at me and walked over to the table. She sat down across from Denise and her parents and began flipping through the sheets of paper that were on the table.

"So…Denise. Do you know why you're here?" she asked.

Denise nodded.

"Why are you here?"

"To help find the person who killed Michelle," she answered.

"And you know what he looks like?"

"Yes, I do."

"What did he look like?"

Denise gave Detective Wu the same descriptive, word for word.

"Where were you when your friend was kidnapped, Denise?"

"I was walking with her to school in the morning."

Denise finished the remains of her juice and looked solemnly at the detective.

"And what happened then?"

"This man appeared in a pickup truck and stopped. He asked us where we were going and we told him. He asked us if he could give a ride to school, but we said no and kept walking. Then he drove ahead and asked us if we were sure. We didn't answer him. I just whispered to Michelle to keep walking and ignore him. Then the man stepped out of his truck and walked towards us. He grabbed Michelle and threatened me. Then he put her in his truck and drove off…and that's it."

Detective Wu was taking notes furiously. "And have you seen this man before in the neighborhood, Denise? Before your friend's kidnapping?" she asked.

"No."

"What was the color of his truck? Do you remember?"

"It was black."

"Black?"

"Yep."

"Alrighty….Do you know Cortney Richardson or Thomas Allen Richardson?"

"I know Mrs. Richardson. She has two kids who are twins. Jason and Lacey Lynn. They were in our class and Michelle and I used to hang with them all the time. But I don't know that second person."

"The name 'Thomas Allen Richardson' doesn't ring a bell?"

"Nope."

"Have Lacey Lynn or Jason ever talked about him?"

"They talked about him once. All I remember was the two of them talking about how he was never around, because of his new job. Then I remember Lacey Lynn talking about an argument their parents had over him hardly ever being around the house. Michelle offered to take them to her house to play for awhile, so they wouldn't feel bad."

"So, what you're trying to tell me is that Mr. Richardson was the Phantom of the Neighborhood? He was so mysterious, that even his own _children and wife_ hardly ever saw him?"

Denise shrugged. "I guess so," she replied.

Detective Wu chuckled. "Well, that sounds about right, Denise. One more thing, before I dismiss you. Now, we have a picture of Thomas Allen Richardson. Lacey Lynn and Jason's mother came by to Mr. Tanner's house to give him a photo of him. Mr. Richardson is report ably missing and Mrs. Richardson says that the man in the photo is him. Okay? Now, we have that same picture of him. When I show it to you, I need you to tell me if this is the same man who kidnapped and killed your friend. Now, look."

She dug into the envelope and pulled out the picture of Thomas Allen Richardson and handed it to Denise.

"Is that the same man, Denise?" Detective Wu asked her softly.

Denise took a long glance at it. She looked it up and down. After a minute or so, she put it down gently and looked at me, her parents, the police officers and Detective Wu.

She looked a little pale. "Yes. That's him. That's the same guy who killed Michelle," she said, almost whispering.


	11. The Questioning of Cortney Richardson

Chapter Eleven

The Questioning of Cortney Richardson

"This is fucking crazy! My husband is not a murderer!"

Those were the first words that came out of Cortney Richardson's mouth as she rushed inside the investigation room.

"I'd ask you to watch your mouth, Mrs. Richardson. There is a child in this room," Detective Wu warned, pointing to Denise.

Mrs. Richardson bit her tongue and sat down across from Detective Wu. She glared at me and Detective Wu.

Before Detective Wu could talk, Mrs. Richardson spoke. "What makes you think my husband killed the little Tanner girl?" she asked sharply.

"Well, first off, we have a witness here. Denise has already confirmed that your husband is the one who snatched her and later killed her. Her description matches your husband."

"And you're gonna believe her? She's just a little girl," Mrs. Richardson retorted.

I looked at her, in shock and unbelief. _This woman has blind faith in her husband_! I thought, in disgust. Her husband had killed my baby, we had a witness and yet she refused to believe the obvious.

"Well, if your husband didn't kill my daughter, Mrs. Richardson, then who did?" I asked her angrily.

"I don't know, Mr. Tanner. Anybody could've taken Michelle, but not Thomas. He's a descent, loving man. He would_ never_ do such a thing."

"And how do you know that? Would a decent, loving man, as you claim your husband to be, kidnap, rape and murder my little girl? I don't know what your idea of decent and loving is, but your husband clearly isn't all he seems."

Mrs. Richardson opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. The two of us just glared at each other.

It was quiet for a minute.

"Can I go now?" Denise asked.

We all looked at her. I had forgotten she was there.

Mrs. Frazier took her hand. "Of course, honey. Will you be needing Denise anymore?" she asked.

Detective Wu shook her head. "Not for awhile. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Frazier, for giving us permission to talk to your daughter. And thank you, Denise."

Denise nodded. "You're welcome," she replied. "'Bye, Ms. Wu. 'Bye, Mr. Tanner," she said, waving.

I was a little surprised to notice Denise had not said anything to Mrs. Richardson. Perhaps it was because she was hurt Mrs. Richardson had pretty much called Denise a liar.

I waved to her as she quietly shut the door.

Mrs. Richardson turned to Detective Wu. "This is outrageous! I tell you, my husband did not kill anybody!"

Detective Wu glared at Mrs. Richardson. "Mrs. Richardson, until we receive evidence different from the evidence Denise gave us, we will see otherwise. And"

"And you believe her? She's only a little"

I rose up from her seat and put my hand up to stop Mrs. Richardson from talking. "Excuse me, Mrs. Richardson," I snapped. "But didn't you see the girls walking to school that morning of Michelle's kidnapping?"

Mrs. Richardson put her hands on her hips, glaring at me angrily. "Yes. So what?"

"And was your husband home that morning?"

"No, he wasn't. What's that's gotta do with anything?"

"Where was he?" I asked sharply.

"He told me he was going to work."

"Bullshit. He wasn't working. He kidnapped my daughter!" I said, almost yelling.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't think Denise would lie, especially at a time like this."

Detective Wu stepped in coolly. "So, Mrs. Richardson, you just said your husband left for work. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

"And what time did he leave?"

"He usually leaves home at 7:45 in the morning."

Detective Wu turned to me.

"Mr. Tanner, what time did Michelle leave for school that morning?"

"I wasn't really checking the clock, but she usually leaves for school at around 8 o'clock to 8:15. I remember checking my watch briefly and it read 8:20. Michelle left home at 8:20 that morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Detective Wu nodded thoughtfully.

"Now, back to you, Mrs. Richardson," she replied. "What time did your husband come home the day of Michelle's kidnapping?"

"Thomas usually comes home at around 1:00 in the morning. That job has him working at all hours of the night, but that day, he came home a little early. He came home at around 11:45pm that day."

"Was there anything suspicious about him? Did he look like he done anything suspicious?"

Mrs. Richardson shook her head. "No. Not at all," she answered.

"Speaking of his job, Mrs. Richardson. What does your husband do, exactly?"

"My husband works for a printing press. He's in charge of checking all the stock that comes in."

"Such as what? Newspapers? Books? Magazines?"

"Books. Just books."

"What's the name of the printing place, Mrs. Richardson?"

"The name of the place is called Bookworm Press. It's a fairly new place here in San Francisco. We moved here from Kenner, Louisiana because the new building had more electronics and technology than the other place. Bookworm chose the people they wanted to work for them and my husband was chosen."

Detective Wu took notes furiously. "So that explains why you and your family moved here. Now, tell me about your children. Your children were close with Denise and Michelle, were they not?"

"Yes, they were. I remember Michelle and Denise coming over to hang out with my kids almost everyday. And Michelle would invite them over to her house. I really thought Michelle and Denise were great because they were the first ones to embrace Lacey Lynn and Jason into the neighborhood and make friends with them. They didn't have many friends in Kenner. The twins were shy people and kept to themselves. But they opened up more and more when they started making friends with the girls."

Detective Wu scribbled more notes into her little notepad. "Okay. Denise told us that Lacey Lynn had opened up to Michelle and mentioned that Mr. Richardson – your husband – was never around. Is that true?"

"Yes. It's true. Thomas works from early in the morning until about 2am. He works hard at what he does."

"Hmmm…Mrs. Richardson, has it ever occurred to you what exactly your husband _does_ when he's out of the house?"

Cortney Richardson shook her head. "No. I trust my husband 100. I even filed a police report for him when he went missing. He's been gone for three weeks now!"

"You don't think he may be out cheating on you or "

"Thomas would never do that to me!"

"Yeah? How do you know, Mrs. Richardson. Give me one reason why you think your husband is such a saint?"

Mrs. Richardson glared at Detective Wu with contempt. "And who are you to ask me such a question like that? How dare you?"

"It's a simple question, Mrs. Richardson. You don't know what your husband does when he leaves because you hardly see him. No one has seen him, as a matter of fact. Now, why don't you learn the obvious: Your husband has been seen very, very rarely by anyone, Mr. Tanner's daughter has just been murdered and now he's been missing for three weeks since her death. To me, it all adds up. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that your husband had something to do with it."

"But"

"Your problem is, Mrs. Richardson, is that you have blind faith in your husband. You believe everything he says and does. You think he's such a saint and a great father, but you're wrong. Denise said so herself that your children were not happy with him. Now, you listen to me. We are going to find your husband. And when we do, we will question him. And if he somehow has us convinced that he has killed Michelle Tanner, he will suffer the consequences for his actions."

Mrs. Richardson bit her lip, as if to stop herself from crying. "I-I ju-just don't wanna lose him. If he did kill that baby, then I believe you should do whatever is necessary. But I don't wanna lose my husband. He's all that I got," she said in a quivery voice.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Richardson, but it has to be done. And your husband is_ not_ all you've got. You've still got your children. Imagine how hard this is for them. They've lost their friend. Their father has disappeared. And now he might be a suspect in their friend's murder? Mrs. Richardson, you've got to learn to see reason and use common sense. From everything we've heard today, it's a safe bet that your husband is the main suspect in that little girl's death. I've even taken notes of the events. See?"

Detective Wu slid the notebook across the table to Mrs. Richardson. I looked over her shoulder to take a peek. Here's what it read:

**_On October 5, 1995, on a Thursday morning in San Francisco, California, Michelle Tanner, age 8, was kidnapped on her way to school. The only witness to her kidnapping was Michelle's best friend, Denise Frazier, also 8. A month later, Michelle's body was found nude in a grassy knoll in a park in Oakland, California by two walkers-by. _**

**_An autopsy was conducted later to conclude that Michelle had been strangled. There were traces of saliva, hair and semen on her body to comprehend Michelle had also been raped as well as murdered._**

**_On December 4, Cortney Richardson visited the Tanner household and other neighborhoods to report her husband, Thomas Allen Richardson, missing. A police report was found by the San Francisco Police Department two days before Mrs. Richardson visited the house to look for her husband. Mrs. Richardson presented Daniel Tanner, the father of the victim, a photo of Mr. Richardson. According to Mr. Tanner, his friend, Joseph Gladstone, remembered Mr. Richardson from the older description Miss Frazier had given to police about the kidnapper the day Miss Tanner was kidnapped. Miss Frazier has confirmed that Mr. Richardson is the man in the photo responsible for Miss Tanner's kidnapping, rape and murder. _**

**_Cortney and Thomas Allen Richardson have two children, fraternal twins, one male and one female. Jason Trevor Richardson and Lacey Lynn Amanda Richardson, both 9 years old. The Richardsons moved from Kenner, Louisiana to San Francisco, roughly around March of 1995. Mr. Richardson's previous job was for BookWorm Press, a publishing company located in Kenner. The company re-located due to change in technology and re-located in San Francisco, which is why the Richardsons moved. Since then, Mr. Richardson has not been seen or located by any person in the neighborhood, before _**and**_ after Miss Tanner's death, although Michelle and Denise were friends with the twins and friendly with their mother. Mr. Richardson has not been found as of yet since his three-week disappearance_**.

"What are you going to do with that?" I asked after I'd finished reading the grisly report.

"This will become a document of the case as of now. When the events expand, I will add more. But in the meantime, this is all we've got."

I sighed. If this man did kill my daughter, then how would we find him? We had no idea where he was and he could be anywhere.

Mrs. Richardson looked up at us. "Detective, Mr. Tanner? I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with my husband's disappearance. As much as I love him, I knew he was doing more than just work. He was very secretive about everything, you know? I guess you're right, Detective. I do have blind faith in him. But he is a sweetheart and a great provider. I know he loves us, but he just doesn't show it enough. But I swear I didn't tell him to leave or hideout or anything. He just did it on his own, without telling anyone anything…I'm sorry about your baby, Mr. Tanner. Michelle was such a sweet little girl. If my husband did kill her, then I'll never forgive him because killing anyone is wrong, but a child is a million times worse. And I'm sorry for my actions. I apologize for the way I've acted. I'm sorry."

I nodded.

"But if you all think my husband is the one who caused all this, then by all means, you should look for him. But if he isn't, then…I hope you do find the bastard who killed your daughter, Mr. Tanner. But I hope my husband didn't do this."

She gave me a sad smile. "Detective, is it okay if I leave?" she asked.

"Yes, but I need the info about BookWorm Press. Just the address and phone number of the place. Both here in San Francisco and Kenner, if that's no problem."

Mrs. Richardson sighed. "Alright," she replied.

She took out her miniature phone book out of her purse and began looking up the information for Detective Wu. After she was done, she wrote it down quickly on a scrap of paper and gave it to her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Richardson. Have a good day, will you? Rest and spend some time with your children. They really need you."

Mrs. Richardson nodded and silently left the room.

After she'd gone, I turned to Detective Wu.

"So what are you going to do now?" I asked.

"The addresses to both places are just what we need, but we need more information, Mr. Tanner. We're going to pay BookWorm Press a little visit."


	12. Belinda Harrison, Undercover Detective

Chapter Twelve

Belinda Harrison, Undercover Detective

The police department and Detective Wu had all the information they needed from us. They had to travel to Louisiana to visit BookWorm's employees.

"When we arrive back, we should have more info on this Richardson guy, Mr. Tanner," Detective Wu assured me a week later.

Detective Wu was at my house on a Wednesday afternoon, drinking a cup of coffee. The rest of the family was present as well.

"I hope it's substantial evidence, Detective," I replied.

"We hope so, too. But everything will alright. I've got my money on this guy."

"I hope they catch him. I want this man to pay for what did to my sister," Stephanie replied, looking at her shaking hands. She frowned. "I haven't been able to sleep since," she added.

Jesse rubbed Stephanie's shoulder. "You're not alone," he said.

Detective Wu nodded. "Which is why we're trying to help you all," she said. "It's a shame what has happened to such a family like you all. You all seem to be such a loving, caring family. None of you should have to go through what you've been through. But before I go, I want to leave you with one thought: Everything happens for a reason. I don't what reason there is from this, but I'm sure there is one. Don't forget that, okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, Detective. Good luck,"Joey replied.

Claire turned to face us. "You think they'll come back with anything worthwhile?" she asked.

"You never know, honey. You never know."

Becky sat down on the couch, deep in thought. "If he's hiding out in Louisiana, where's a place he might go to?"

Gia shrugged. "Maybe he went to a place he knows. I mean, he can't move into his old house there, can he? He probably sold it to someone else."

I looked at both Becky and Gia thoughtfully. "Hold it. You guys might be onto something there. Of course he wouldn't move into his old home, obviously. But maybe he went to hide out somewhere he's familiar with."

"Somewhere like where? A friend's house? A family member?" Claire asked.

"Exactly."

"But where?" Jesse asked. "The man's probably not even in Kenner."

"Maybe not, but maybe somewhere in close proximity. What's the nearest city or town near Kenner?"

Everyone shrugged.

Jesse suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" He exclaimed. "A couple of years ago, my band and I went to perform in New Orleans at a dive bar. On the way there on the highway coming back here, I remember reading a sign pointing out that Kenner was at least a few miles away from New Orleans. New Orleans is the nearest city in Louisiana that even close to Kenner."

"D'ya think Richardson has anyone he knows in New Orleans?" Stephanie asked.

Detective Wu nodded. "It just so happens that he does. Mrs. Richardson gave us permission to look in their home. In their living room, the family has pictures of a young woman named Lily Church. She's a family friend of the Richardsons that Mr. Richardson has been fond of, according to Mrs. Richardson."

"_Fond of_? What the hell does that mean?" Becky asked.

"What do you mean?" Detective Wu asked.

"Well, is he fucking her?" Becky asked her sharply.

"Becky!" I replied, looking at her sharply.

"Danny, I've heard much worse," Gia reminded me.

"Oh, come on, Danny. It's a simple question. I mean, think about it, okay? The SOB kidnaps Michelle, kills her, dumps her body in a faraway location and then hides away somewhere. And where? It's obvious he's hiding at his mistress' house in his home state."

"And how do you know that?" I asked.

Becky blushed a little before speaking again. "It's just that I saw something similar to this on TV once."

Detective Wu patted Becky on the back. "You know, that could be the case," she said. "Mr. Richardson may be a womanizer. But we've got to prove that he is and that he has. Plus, if he's the one who has committed this much worse crime."

"What if Mrs. Richardson is leading you guys into some kind of trap?" Gia asked

"Highly unlikely. We've already threatened her with stories about people who try to lie or cover up their criminal friends. If she did squeal to her husband, we'd know about it," Detective Wu replied.

"So, what's gonna happen now?" I asked.

"We're going to have one of our undercover female police officers pose as a potential date for Mr. Richardson. Now, according to Mrs. Richardson, Mr. Richardson liked to drink in different pubs with his buddies. Once he's had a few drinks in him, he may talk about Michelle and such."

"What's the woman look like?" Jesse asked.

"Well, I'll call her and tell her to come by so you all can meet her. May I use your phone?"

"Sure. In the kitchen," I replied.

She thanked us and went into the kitchen.

After she'd gone, Claire turned to me. "Honey, I'm not so sure about this. I mean, doesn't this sound a little farfetched to you?"

"Does what sound farfetched?"

"This whole undercover detective thing. I don't know…it just sounds farfetched to me."

"Claire, don't worry. It'll be fine, okay?" I rubbed her shoulder. "After all, it doesn't really matter to me how that catch this son of a bitch. I want to see him suffer for his actions. He_ did_ make Michelle and the rest of us suffer, you know."

Claire nodded agreement. "Okay. Let's do it. You're right, honey,"

At that moment, Detective Wu came back into the living room. "Okay. I've called her and she'll be on her way. She just called me from her car phone and she's…"

The doorbell rang.

"I believe she's here right now. If there's one thing I like about Belinda, it's that she's never late."

Detective Wu opened the door.

A middle-aged woman with manila-tanned skin, long blonde hair and grey eyes stood in our doorway. She _was _attractive, I'll say. She was wearing a black T-shirt and faded Levis jeans with a pair of beat-up white Nikes. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail.

"Hullo. Is this the Tanner residence?" she asked in a British or either Australian accent. I couldn't tell.

"Mr. Tanner, this is Belinda Harrison. She's an incredible detective. Probably much more than me," Detective Wu said, joking a little.

Belinda laughed. "No. I don't really think I'm that good, Linds. No one as good as you."

"Would you like to sit down?" I asked, offering her a seat.

"Oh, sure. Thanks. Is this your family?" she asked.

"Yes. Miss Harrison, this is my lovely family. My wife, Claire; my stepdaughter, Gia; my daughter, Stephanie; my brother-in-law, Jesse; my best friend, Joey and my sister-in-law, Becky. My eldest daughter, DJ is away at school….and you probably already know about Michelle," I added sadly.

Belinda looked at one of the pictures of Michelle we had of her on the mantelpiece.

"Is that her?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Tanner. It makes me want to help you. Lindsey called me and told me everything that happened, from your daughter's murder down to the most recent of events. And I'm gonna help you."

"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it can be dangerous."

Belinda scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. When I was about sixteen or so, I once had a row with my ex-boyfriend once. He was seeing this other lass behind my back, so when I heard about her, we exchanged words with other and I punched him out. I hit him so hard; he was out for at least twenty minutes! So don't you worry about me. This little lass can pack a mean punch."

"What if he tries to hit on you or something?" Jesse asked.

"I've got my undercover security with me if he gets a little too close for comfort. I tell you, I've got this all under control. I've been undercover before and pretty much, in all the jobs I've been on, I've only gotten hurt at least 5 of the time."

Detective Wu nodded with approval. "Trust us; you'll all be in good hands. Belinda's an expert," she bragged.

"Alright. I believe you all. If Detective Wu says you're a great detective, then we believe you. When do you leave, Miss Harrison?" I asked.

"A few hours. I have to jump quickly. An undercover detective needs to jump quickly and not wait until the next day. I just came so I could meet everyone properly before my flight to New Orleans. Oh, and to tell you what my plan is for Mr. Richardson to possibly bag him."

"Well, let's hear it," I replied.

"I'm going to pose as a university student from London traveling to New Orleans as a tourist. I'll woo him and take him out to a pub. When he gets either tipsy or drunk, I'll ask him some questions about Michelle and see if he has something to do with her murder. And I'll have it all on tape. I have a teeny fancy tape recorder I carry around with me always whenever I'm on a job. And it hasn't failed me since."

"Well, we wish you the best of luck, Belinda. Please come back with any information you get," I replied.

"No problem, Mr. Tanner. We all want to help find out why this man did this to your daughter. I have to go now or I'll be late for my flight. Good-bye. It was nice meeting you all." She got up from her seat and walked towards the door.

"Oh, Miss Harrison, before you go. Where are you from, anyway?" Stephanie wanted to know.

"I'm from The Virgin Islands. My accent, huh?"

"Yeah."

"People ask me about it all the time. It was nice meeting you all. I'll be back with some information for you."

"Good-bye, Miss Harrison. And thanks again," I said.

She nodded and went out the door.

"I wonder what's going to unfold now," I thought out loud to myself.


	13. The Stakeout

Chapter Thirteen

The Stakeout (Belinda's story)

_As dictated by Danny Tanner_

_I was in New Orleans, in a Hilton hotel room, going over my outfit to wear at to the pub. Lindsey called me to tip me off that Thomas Allen Richardson was out with friends at a pub called The Gentleman's Lair._

"_How did you know that?" I asked, sounding a little astonished._

"_Richardson's wife has been calling me off the hook, giving me all these tips on where her husband is and might be."_

"_Hmmm. I don't know if I trust her," I said._

"_Don't worry, Belinda. He's there. He called her."_

"_He did?"_

"_Yes. He called her and told her he's with his mother in Kentwood, LA, but we just traced his call from the pub in New Orleans. He's obviously lying."_

"_Okay. I'm getting dressed now and I'll be on my way over to the bar. Do you have any instructions for me before I go?"_

"_Not really. But I do want you to be careful, okay? Get as much dirt about this man as you can. Kapeesh? _

"_Kapeesh?"_

_Lindsey laughed slightly. "This new word I learned from Jesse Katsopolis. It means 'Understand'?"_

_I laughed. "Kapeesh," I answered._

_After we hung up the phone, I quickly put together my outfit._

_I put on my black, tight-fitting corset, a pair of blue flair jeans and a pair of black stiletto high heels. I brushed out my blond hair and put on a black headband underneath. I then began gathering all my other necessities in my purse._

_I was ready to go._

_Before I opened my hotel room door, I grabbed my miniature microphone and clipped it to the bosom of my dress. I then clipped an even smaller earpiece to my ear._

_I pressed the tiny record button on it to check if it worked. It did._

_**Now **I was ready._

_I was on the road, not too far from The Gentleman's Lair. I checked my watch._

_11:45, it read. I was hoping and praying I wasn't too late._

_I pulled up to the place and parked my car. After I got out, I filled in the appropriate time slot for the parking meter and walked inside._

_The place was rather seedy. There were pool tables with men all around, playing billiards. A few of them were talking loudly and cursing. Near the billiards, was the bar table. The table was filled with mostly men, but there were a few women at the bar. Everyone at the bar was gulping down their liquor as if they'd never have another drink again._

_The floors were dingy. The whole place smelled of…dirty, grotty things. It just smelled disgusting._

_When I walked in, everyone nearly tripped over themselves. I kicked myself for dressing up **too** much._

_The men were gawking at me, their eyes nearly dropping from their sockets. The few women that were there were glaring at me evilly. _

_I looked around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Thomas Allen Richardson. _

_And there he was. I recognized him from the infamous photograph. He was at a table with some other guys, playing cards. _

_**YES! Gotcha! **I thought._

_**Okay, Belinda. You can do this,** I thought nervously. **You are a smart, clever and beautiful undercover detective. You can make this man fall for you.**_

_I shuddered at the mere thought of trying to seduce this man. But it had to be done._

_I first walked over the bartender. _

"_Hey, Babs. What can I get for ya?" the bartender, a slightly overweight and stocky man, asked me._

"_For me, I'd like a Strawberry Daiquiri. And could you send a whiskey sour over to my friend over there?" I pointed to him._

_The bartender followed my pointing finger. "Him? You mean Thomas?" he asked, almost in disbelieve._

"_Yeah. Why?"_

"_Well…how'd such a good-lookin' gal like you meet up with someone like him? I mean, ain't he married or somethin'?"_

"_Well, if he is married, then it won't be for long, if you catch my drift. Now cut the small talk and cough up the drinks, okay?"_

_The bartender nodded. "Comin' right up," he said._

_He made those drinks lightening-fast. After he was done, he handed me the drinks. _

"_Enjoy," he replied, his eyes wandering, glimpsing every part of my body._

"_Excuse me, but I rather not you **not** eye-fuck me, if you know what I mean**," **I snapped, whispering fiercely. "If I catch you doing it again, I** will** physically hurt you. And I mean it. I **do** own a licensed gun."_

_And with that, I edged my way towards Thomas' table, leaving the bartender speechless._

"_Room for one more? And it's a shame, too. I only bought two drinks," I drawled rather sexily._

_All the men at the table stared at me and started whooping._

"_Sure. You can sit here, baby. There ain't no more seats available over here, but do you wanna sit on my lap?" One of the men wisecracked. The man who'd made that remark was a middle-aged, bearded, semi-drunk who was looking at nothing but my breasts._

_**Pigs!**_

_I smiled good-naturedly. "I actually wanted to sit with Thomas, if that's all right with all of you. I want to talk to him."_

_Another man laughed. "You a hooker, ain't you?" he asked. "If Thomas is gettin' a little piece of the pie, then I want some, too. How much?"_

"_Excuse me?" I asked, flabbergasted._

"_You heard me, woman. How much?"_

_I reached inside my purse and pulled out my small blade. "Excuse me, but I think I said I wanted to sit down. Now, are you gonna leave or am I going to have cut up you jokers?" I said menacingly. _

_The guy who was staring at my chest tapped his friend on the shoulder. "C'mon, Lamont. There's other girls 'round here. She ain't worth it. Thomas, you comin'?"_

_Thomas Richardson shook his head. "No," he answered. "I'm stayin' here."_

"_Suit yourself. Let's get outta here."_

_With that, they all left._

_I shook my head and sat down next to Thomas. "I took the liberty of buying you a drink, if you don't mind," I replied._

_Thomas smiled at me. "Well, ain't you sweet! What is it?"_

"_It's a whiskey sour. You like 'em?"_

"_Of course. I never discriminate against any kind of alcoholic drink," he said, laughing. He gulped down the drink._

_I decided to play along, laughing at his stupid joke._

"_You're so funny. I really like that," I replied, putting my hand on his thigh._

_He looked at it. "Movin' kinda fast, aren't you?" He asked._

_I didn't answer. I began massaging his thigh. _

"_How about I order you another drink?" I asked smoothly._

_Thomas nodded, dumbfound. _

_Thomas had had about ten drinks and he still wasn't talking. Instead, he was talking about his wife and his job and his kids. He'd mentioned that his wife (Cortney) wasn't satisfying him enough as a wife, which was why he'd begun womanizing. I learned that sometimes, he wouldn't even go to work. Instead, he'd go and try to pick up different types of woman. _

_I had to make him talk about Michelle. But how?_

_Before I could question him about her, Thomas began nibbling lightly at my neck._

"_Of all the entire women I've had, I ain't ever met one as lovely as you, though. Never."_

_**Play along, Belinda. Play along**, I thought._

_I giggled. "Thank you. You are quite the handsome little bloke," I replied._

"_Bloke?"_

"_It's British slang for a guy."_

"_You British?"_

"_I'm from the Virgin Islands, but the British colonized it."_

_Thomas stroked my hair. "You're so smart. I wish my wife was as smart and sexy as you."_

_With that, he started kissing me._

_I wanted to throw up._

"_Hey, sweetie. Let's go in my car. I got somethin' to show you," he replied._

_**Well, whatever it is, it better not be what I think it's going to be!**_

_We got up, paid the fee and he escorted me to his car._

_He opened the passenger door for me and I ducked inside. I took a look inside. It was a mess. He had junk in the backseat. Junk all over the floors. Plus, it smelled like something had died in there. I wanted to gag. _

_On the door of the glove compartment, he glued a photo of some children in the middle of it. I looked even closer to get a better look. _

_In the photo, stood Jason and Lacey Lynn with Michelle and Denise. I couldn't tell when the picture was taken._

_Thomas stepped inside. Whatever it was he wanted to show me, would have to wait until later. I **had** to question this. What the hell did he have a picture of the kids, including Michelle for?_

"_You like kids, Thomas?"_

_Thomas looked a little surprised. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I love 'em. Now let's—"_

"_The little blonde girl in the photo looks familiar. I think I saw her face on TV. Wasn't she murdered or something?"_

_Thomas glanced at the photo. "I think she was," he replied._

"_She's a beautiful girl. I hope they catch whoever killed her."_

_Thomas didn't answer me. _

"_I mean, why would anyone want to do anything like that to her? She was only a little girl and-"_

"_Can I trust you with something?" he asked._

_I started stroking his hair. "What it is?"_

"_I know we've just met, but I think I've fallen in love with you."_

_**Huh?**_

"_Excuse me?" I couldn't help by question._

_Thomas brushed his lips against mine. "I love you. I think I can trust you. I've got a lot of secrets," he replied._

_**Finally! **_

_I looked down quickly to see if my microphone was on. It was. "Let's hear. I'm sure it's gonna be fascinating," I said, lying through my teeth._

_**Thomas' story**_

"_First off, about those kids. Those kids are mine."_

"_All of them?" I asked._

"_No. Just the two kids in front of the picture. My twins, Jason and Lacey Lynn."_

"_Are those other girls their friends or something?" I inquired._

"_I think so. I didn't really know them, but the kids were always talking about them."_

"_Did you know the little blonde-haired girl died?"_

_Thomas stared at me, as if I already knew something. "She did? That's awful," he replied._

"_What about your wife?" I demanded._

"_Who? Cortney? That stupid bitch?" he retorted, snorting out a laugh. "I mean, hasn't she known by now that I don't love her anymore? All those times she thought I was out working, I was actually out havin' the time of my life!"_

_**Having the time of his life? What did he mean?**_

"_First, there was Lily Church, Cortney's best friend. Before we moved to San Francisco, I was always out to see Lily. All I had to do was tell Cortney I was workin' and the stupid whore'd believe every damn thing I said!" _

_He laughed a hard, bitter laugh and continued talking. "Now, since we love each other, we can keep secrets, right?"_

_I smiled flirtatiously at him. "Absolutely," I replied._

_Thomas smiled at me. "Well, I** like** you! Anyway…nothing came close to this girl I met. She was only a kid, but she looked beautiful. She was friends with my kids and I would see her often. I'd see her with my kids in photographs or with my wife. I mean, she was just…breathtakingly stunning. Every time I saw her in these photos, I yearned for her. _

_I didn't know how** much** I wanted her, but I knew I did. Each time, the feelings got stronger and stronger. Until I finally did it."_

"_There she was. She was walking down the street with the dreadlocked little girl. I didn't care about her. I just wanted the other little girl – the beautiful one. I just grabbed her._

_She looked scared, fearful, frightened – all that was in her eyes. I kept trying to touch her, but she was trying to bite and kick and scream. I stuck a gag in her mouth and tied her hands behind her back."_

"_We drove about an hour and a half to a hotel in Oakland, California. We pulled to a stop in an empty parking lot. I got out and went into the backseat. And I did it."_

"_What?"_

"_I took off all of her clothes, piece by piece. Then I just had my way with her. She was muffling against that gag and she was crying and trying to fight me off._

_After I done, I got angry. She hated me. I fell in love with her and she hated me. Then I got scared. She was going to tell someone what I had done to her if I spared her._

_I instantly pinned her down and started wrapping my hands around her neck, pressing hard against it._

_At first, she looked surprised. She stared at me, wide-eyed and scared. She was trying to scratch at my arms, but I just held them there. _

_Two seconds later, she just fell limp. She was dead."_

_I got scared then. I looked at, trying to revive her. But it did no use. So I hid her body behind the seats on the floor and drove around, trying to find a place to rid of the body. I finally found a place twenty minutes later. I pulled up to a vacant area in a park and put the body inside the grassy knoll and left her there. And since then, I've never looked back."_

_I looked at him, pretending to be in awe of what he was saying. I knew he was talking about Michelle. I felt sick to my stomach, listening to every word coming out of his mouth._

_But I had to keep up the charade. _

"_Well, enough talk. We gonna kiss or not?" I asked, reaching behind my back for a weapon._

_Thomas grinned drunkenly. "Or course. Just let me get my birth control," he said._

"_Birth control?" I asked._

"_Yeah. My raincoat, of course!" He replied, laughing obnoxiously._

_I wanted to throw up even more. _

_While he was fiddling around even more for his 'birth control', I pulled out my gun and without warning; I hit him over the head with the back of it, knocking him out cold._

_I opened the door of his truck – the same place Michelle had died – and ran away. _

_I ran down the street, crying all the way to my hotel room._

_I couldn't believe it. That…that fucking asshole! He'd picked Michelle up and used her and then threw her away like unwanted trash. He didn't even have any remorse for what he'd done. _

_I remembered the photo of Michelle on the Tanners' mantelpiece. I didn't know her, but she looked like such a sweet girl. Michelle and her family didn't deserve any of what had happened to them._

_Thomas' family didn't deserve what happened to them, either._

_When I reached my hotel room, I sobbed my eyes out. _


	14. Finding Out and the Idea

Chapter Fourteen

Finding Out and the Idea

The telephone rang in the middle of the night, waking me up. Claire shot up out of bed along with me.

"Who could it be this time of night?" Claire asked groggily.

I shrugged and yawned. I picked up the phone anyway.

"Hello?" I answered sleepily.

"Mr. Tanner? It's Belinda," Belinda Harrison answered.

"Belinda? What are you doing? What's wrong?" I asked, sensing something was going on.

"Mr. Tanner, you _have_ to call the police right away. He's done it!"

"What?"

"Mr. Tanner, Thomas Allen Richardson has just confessed. He's the one who killed your daughter. Call the police immediately. I've called the police department in New Orleans, but I want you to call the SFPD right away, okay? We'll tell you everything, but please get over to the police department right away."

"Belinda, wait. I-"

"Mr. Tanner, call them. I can't talk for very long. Mr. Richardson is unconscious, but he won't be for too long. I have to act quickly. The SFPD will fill you in. Good-bye, Mr. Tanner. Everything will be fine, I know it."

"Okay, thank you, Belinda. For all of your help," I said, hanging up the phone.

After I'd hung up, I stared into space. _We got him_, I thought.

I cried, feeling overjoyed and relieved. I was relieved, knowing who had killed my baby. Michelle was at peace, now that her killer had been found. The only thing that was bothering me now was why he did it.

Jesse, Joey, Becky and Claire all agreed to come with me to the police department, which meant Gia and Stephanie were in charge of the twins.

We drove to the police department, never saying a word to each other. But the feelings of tenseness, anger and curiosity were in the air.

Detective Wu and Officer Hacker-Weissman were both waiting for us in front of the building. There were no television cameras or reporters in sight. _Thank goodness_, I thought.

"Good morning, everyone. Sorry we had to wake everyone up this early in the morning, but Belinda called us and told us it was urgent that we speak with everyone, especially you, Mr. Tanner," Detective Wu replied, escorting us into the building.

"Not a problem," I said. "Now, what's going on?"

"Mr. Richardson has just confessed to your daughter's murder, Mr. Tanner. Would everyone take a seat in one of the investigation rooms, please?"

We walked into one and took seats. I was sitting next to between Claire and Joey.

"Now, would you tell us what's going on?" Joey inquired.

Detective Wu took a deep breath. "Well, first off, we checked Richardson's history at BookWorm Press. We found absolutely nothing of any criminal behavior…but a woman who worked at the press had a brief affair with him. Mr. Richardson had no reports of criminal activity or behavior. We talked to every employee and all of them said the same thing or close to it: Mr. Richardson kept to himself. He didn't talk to any of the employees, other than his boss. And his boss said the same thing as well. Everyone just thought of him as an odd person."

"Belinda went undercover to a pub in New Orleans last night, I guess, to a spot called the Gentleman's Lair. She succeeded in getting Mr. Richardson drunk and he confessed to her that he had killed Michelle."

"But…why? Why would he kill her? Why?" Jesse asked angrily. He gripped the hard wooden table tightly, his fingernails scratching the top.

"According to Belinda, he was obsessed with her," Officer Hacker-Weissman replied.

Becky scrunched her forehead in confusion. "What?" she asked, looking bewildered.

"Richardson had a photograph of his children with Denise and Michelle in his car. He said he's seen photos that his wife had taken of the kids, so he only knew Michelle from the photographs. Richardson talked about Michelle in…um…graphic detail. He was talking about her as if he'd fallen in love with her. He was infatuated with her, actually."

"He had no interest in Denise, which is why he did not kidnap her, but rather Michelle."

"He held Michelle captive until they reached a parking lot of a hotel in Oakland, California. There, is where he pinned her down, removed all of her clothing, raped her and strangled her. He dumped her body in that knoll we found in the park. Michelle had tried to fight her way from this man until the very end."

I sat, staring in disbelieve and shock. _Michelle had to die that way_, I thought. _My poor baby. _

Didn't that man have any remorse for what he'd just done? Michelle had to die because of his sick and twisted pleasures? The thought of it made me sick.

I wanted that man to pay.

I burst into tears, putting my hands over my face.

"Danny, honey? What's wrong?" Claire asked. "Tell us how you feel."

"I feel…"

Quite frankly, I now felt a whole bunch of emotions: Relieved, full of grief, tired, livid, revengeful and depressed.

"She didn't have to die that way," I muttered, trying to stop the flow of tears. "My poor baby…"

Claire and the others immediately came to my aid.

"Danny, justice will prevail. That man will suffer for his crimes. We'll see to it that he does," Joey said. "Everything happens for a reason. I don't know what that reason, exactly. But I just know that something good's gonna happen from this. I know it. I can feel it."

I didn't register what Joey was saying at first. Not until later, anyway.

Joey put his hand on my shoulder. "All you have to do is find out what that reason is, Danny. Then Michelle would not have died in vain," he replied.

On the ride back home, I sat in the passenger seat while Claire drove. I kept daydreaming of what could have possibly happened to Michelle during her last days.

_Michelle had tried to fight her way from this man until the very end._

I smiled sadly, thinking of how brave she must have been. I wanted to raise strong, independent children.

I guess I did.

"Danny, you're gonna have to hire a lawyer," Jesse reminded me. "This guy is gonna pay for everything he's done to Michelle and us," he said while we were in the living room.

Becky nodded in agreement. "He's right. Danny, you should call –"

The phone rang.

I picked it up.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hello? Mr. Tanner?"

It was Kimmy.

"Kimmy?" I asked, almost surprised to hear her calling me 'Mr. Tanner', seeing as she almost never did call me that. She usually called me 'Mr. T'.

It was four in the morning. What could she be calling for?

"Mr. Tanner, have you watched the news?" she asked.

"The news? At four in the morning?" I asked incredulously.

"I was flipping channels, looking for something to watch. CNN just reported that the New Orleans Police Department has Thomas Allen Richardson, Michelle's killer, in police custody. A detective named Belinda got him to 'fess up to the murder. Did you know?"

"Yeah. We know, Kimmy. But thanks for telling us."

"Sure. No problem. Hope he gets what he deserves," she added before saying good-bye.

After we hung up, the phone rang again. It was D.J. from Stanford.

"Dad! I can't believe it! They finally caught that bastard!" she exclaimed

"D.J.? Are you watching the same program on CNN?" I asked.

"Yeah. When's the court case?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said truthfully.

"Dad, you know you guys will have to be ready when the media starts coming," she said.

"Quite frankly, D.J., I don't want to have to deal with the media right now."

"I understand, Dad. I don't really like the idea of having a media circus in our neighborhood, but this case has been sort of a media sensation. The whole country's been talking about this. Everyone wants to see what we'll do and what we'll say and what's going to happen next. Plus, you guys have to get justice for Michelle and all the other murdered children that can't speak up for themselves anymore. You raised Michelle for eight years. You know what that man did was wrong. You need to get justice for Michelle and speak up for her. Do this for her, Dad. I think it'd be what she would want you to do."

"You're absolutely right, D.J.," I replied, an idea suddenly forming in my head.

"I love you, Dad. Tell everyone else that I love them. I'll be home soon, okay?"

"Love you, too," I said.

I sat down and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, my juices flowing.

I had an idea so crazy, it was good. _Plus, you guys have to get justice for Michelle and all the other murdered children that can't speak up for themselves anymore, _D.J. had told me.

I had an idea to start an advocacy group. I wanted to lead an advocacy group in Michelle's memory. The group would help support families of murdered children and reach out to them. I scribbled more and more ideas down.

"Danny, what are you doing?" Becky asked, trying to take a peek at my handwriting.

"This," I said, handing her the piece of paper.

She took it and read it briefly. Her eyes widened after she read it. "Danny, this is a brilliant idea!" she agreed.

"What?" Jesse asked curiously.

"This," she replied, handing him the piece of paper.

After he'd read it, he handed the paper to Joey. Claire looked over his shoulder.

"Wow. Danny, this _is_ a good idea. An advocacy group is a great idea. It's a great way to spread the word about cases like these," Jesse agreed.

Claire nodded her agreement. "Honey, I think you should go for it. This idea of yours is a great idea. It'll keep Michelle's memory alive," she said.

I nodded, thinking of what an impact Michelle had made and was going to make even more. I then yawned. I'd forgotten how late it was.

"Well, if we're going to talk to the media, we should probably get some sleep. There's no telling what time they'll be up, demanding interviews and photos," I said, rolling my eyes.

"For the first time in my life, I actually _don't_ want the fucking media here," Jesse muttered.

"Me, neither," Joey responded.

As we descended up the stairs, I looked up towards the heavens.

_Justice is finally being served, Michelle_, I thought.

Tomorrow was another day.


	15. The Trial

Chapter Fifteen

The Trial

_Wednesday, February 20, 1996_

The court trial was today. After weeks of court hearings, today was the day of the big court trial. Today would be the day of decision; what would happen to Thomas Allen Richardson?

I was literally shaking. I was holding the piece of paper with my testimony written on it. I was feeling nervous and sweaty and ready to faint.

"Dad? Are you feeling okay?"

D.J.'s voice broke me out of my thoughts. I gave her a faint smile.

"I'm fine," I told her.

D.J. shook her head. "Yeah, right," she replied. "Dad, you look ready to pass out. Don't tell me that."

I almost rolled my eyes. There was no getting anything pass D.J. I decided to just tell her the truth.

"I'm just hoping everything pulls through. I want the jury to make the right decision."

D.J. nodded. "I understand what you're saying. You don't want the jury to make some stupid sentence for him like staying in prison for five years or something and then coming out or something like that. I want them to make the right decision, too."

D.J. then got a faraway look in her eyes. "Do you remember what happened after Mom died?" she asked.

I looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, do you remember what sentence the court gave the drunk driver who killed Mom?"

"They gave him two years in prison for manslaughter," I said.

D.J. nodded again. "Exactly. Two years. Two freakin' years, Dad. And do you remember what Uncle Jesse said after Mom's funeral?"

I shook my head.

"He said, 'How is it that someone who literally murdered my big sister is allowed only two years in jail? He knew what he was doing when he overdid the alcohol. He's the one who decided to drive drunk. Why isn't he supposed to pay for his actions? Why are they still letting him drive and continue drinking?' Do you remember that?"

"No, I don't. But how do you remember that? You were just a kid when your mom died."

"I know. But for some reason, I can remember it. It's just a part of my memory that I can remember. But I_ do_ understand what you're feeling. I hope the jury makes the right decision myself. There's too many jerks and creeps like Richardson walking around, corrupting the lives of children everywhere. People like him need to be punished severely for their crimes. The only thing I'm angry about is that it was too late for Michelle and other children like her, but hopefully, a difference can be made. So, we have to make the jury see that."

D.J. put her hand on my shoulder. "Dad, it'll be alright, 'kay? I think Joey's right when he said that everything will be okay. Evil never really wins, you know."

She hugged me. "Love you, Dad. I've got to get ready. Remember what I said, okay?"

"Yes, I will. Thanks, honey," I said.

D.J. smiled at me. "Anytime, Dad," she said to me before leaving the room.

I was literally shaking, sitting in that court room. My family and I were sitting in one of the seats on the plaintiff's side of the room. There were other people seated besides us, waiting for the trial to begin, but we were totally obvious to anyone else but ourselves. We were waiting for our (well, _my_ lawyer, I should say, but I felt the entire family had dealt with a lot after Michelle's death.)

I looked at my watch. 9:45 a.m., it read. The trial was to begin at 10:10.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.

"Dad, you okay?" Stephanie asked.

"I hope so," I answered.

Stephanie reached out and took my hand. "Dad, if you ever feel nervous or tense, just squeeze my hand, okay?"

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks, sweetie," I said.

Stephanie took Gia's hand with her other hand. "Gia, can you grab your mom's hand? We'll have something like a chain. Dad squeezes my hand, I squeeze Gia's, she squeezes Joey, Joey squeezes Aunt Becky's hand, she squeezes Uncle Jesse's hand, and he squeezes D.J.'s hand. D.J. will squeeze Steve's hand and he'll squeeze Kimmy's hand. And that'll be the chain of…the chain of moral support."

"Okay. As long as nobody squeezes too tight," Jesse replied, smiling.

The rest of us smiled back. I guess it was okay to joke a little, just so we could get our minds off of the tension we were feeling.

Whenever I would feel myself tensing up, I'd squeeze Steph's hand. She's squeeze Gia's and then the chain would go on.

"Mr. Tanner?" A familiar voice replied.

I looked up. It was my lawyer, Richard Graham.

Mr. Graham was a tall, dark-haired man with hazel eyes. He was around my age, a man who had graduated from Harvard Law School. He was wearing a crisp, ironed shirt with a tweed suit over it with a plain red necktie.

"Mr. Graham, nice of you to be here," I said, shaking his hand. He then proceeded to shake hands with the other members of the family.

"How is everyone?" Mr. Graham asked the rest of the family.

"Good morning," they chorused.

Mr. Graham smiled briefly. "Mr. Tanner, we have to take our seats at the plaintiff's table," he replied.

"Oh, no problem," I replied.

Claire reached out to take my hand. "Good luck, dear," she said.

"It's gonna be okay, Dad," D.J. reminded me. "So don't worry."

I hugged everyone before I took my seat at the plaintiff's table with Mr. Graham.

"Did you see Richardson yet?" I asked.

Mr. Graham shook his head. "Not yet. He's been in that jail since he got locked up. I've heard that he hasn't had any visitors except his own lawyer. His wife is extremely distraught as well as his children."

I shook my head sadly. "Poor family," I said.

Cortney and her children definitely didn't deserve any of what happened. It seemed my daughter's death was affecting everyone in some way.

"But I have a feeling this man's going to be locked up for quite awhile. There's enough evidence here to imprison him for a long time," Mr. Graham said.

I gulped. _I hope so_, I thought.

"All rise. Court is now is session. Honorary Judge SummerLynn DeMartin presiding," The bailiff announced. Everyone stood at to their feet as the judge took her seat.

"Thank you. You may be seated," she replied. As we took our seats, she spoke again. "We are here today to complete determining the fate of Thomas Allen Richardson, alleged murderer of eight-year-old, Michelle Tanner. Does anyone wish to speak?"

Mr. Graham rose from his seat. "My client wishes to read his testimony, Your Honor," he replied.

Judge SummerLynn nodded. "You may speak, Mr. Tanner," she said.

I stood up, looking around nervously at my family. Then I looked at Mr. Graham.

I then looked around at Cortney Richardson, who was looking extremely glum. I looked at the jury, who were all staring at me, waiting for me to speak. I looked all around the room at every single person in the room. And then, my eyes landed on Thomas Allen Richardson.

His eyes met mine. He glared at me as if to say, _don't you dare testify against me. If you do, I will make your life a living hell._

I clenched my fist, feeling extremely angry. This son of bitch had no remorse for what he'd done to my daughter. All of a sudden, I felt something take hold of me. I had no idea what it was, but whatever it was, was reassuring me everything would be okay.

I took a sip of water that was on the table and put the paper on the table. I began reading from it:

_"Your Honor and People of the Jury, my name is Daniel Tanner, the father of Michelle Elisabeth, the little girl who was kidnapped, raped and then brutally murdered by Thomas Allen Richardson._

_I want to tell you about the kind of girl Michelle was. Michelle was a lovely, beautiful person. She was a very sweet person who was loved by everyone. She was very popular among the neighborhood and her classmates. Michelle was close to everyone in her family, including her uncle, Jesse. I've always remembered Jesse and Michelle's conversations, even when Michelle was a baby. Whenever he had a problem, he'd always confide to my daughter. When Jesse first moved in to take care of my girls after my first wife passed, Jesse had no experience with children. Over the years, Jesse and Michelle shared a special bond that I took for granted. _

_Michelle was well loved by me and my family. We had been through a lot together as a family. We all went through our problems as a family and we solved them together as a family._

_After my daughter's death, it really destroyed me. Michelle was my little princess. She was the last child that I raised before my first wife died. Michelle was our sunshine. She almost always had a smile on her face and she brought a smile to ours and everyone else who knew her._

_The way she died was so sick and thoughtless and senseless, it almost rips my heart in two. Michelle was only eight years of age when a man two-thirds of her age grabs her, takes advantage of her body and then murders her with no remorse. It makes me so incredibly irate to the point of me seriously wanting to kill him myself._

_Michelle did not deserve to die. She did not deserve to be treated the way she was._

_She was in a dream I had one day. She told me she was happy and at peace with where she was. My little princess is in a place where she can be treated like a princess. I feel she is truly at peace, knowing that her killer has been found and that justice will now be served. I miss Michelle so much, it hurts me. I loved her before and I still love her now. _

_Everyday, I hope that everything is a dream. That maybe she didn't die and she's in her bedroom, playing with my nephews or doing her homework. But then it all fades away when I don't see or hear her. I **yearn** for her. Every single day. I want to hug her. I want to talk to her. I want to pick her up and just hold her close. I want to feel her._

_And she was taken away from us, just like that. Without warning._

_As much as I miss my daughter, her death has taught me valuable lessons. I have learned to speak up for myself. I have learned that life is not promised, to anyone. I have also learned to cherish family and friends. _

_I feel my daughter's spirit is in this room. I want justice for my daughter. I don't want this man to take advantage of another family's child again. _

_It was, unfortunately, too late to save my daughter' life, but another life can be saved._

_This man must **not** be let go. He and other murderers of children must be severely punished for their actions. It's time to save the children of America. Thank you."_

After I was done, I sat back down. Almost immediately, Richardson's lawyer, an Indian man, stood up.

"Your Honor, my client, the defendant, would like to speak," he said.

The judge nodded her head. "Mr. Richardson, you may speak," she replied.

Richardson stood up. "Thank you, Your Honor. I'd like to speak against the plaintiff's allegations. Michelle's death was an accident. I did not mean to hurt her. She accidentally choked to death in the struggle. She was not killed by means of intentions."

"That's a lie!" A familiar woman's voice yelled.

The voice belonged to Belinda Harrison, the undercover detective.

Judge DeMartin banged her gavel. "Order!" she exclaimed. "Miss Harrison, I believe you have some proof of Mr. Richardson's statement," she questioned.

"Yes. I do, Your Honor and People of the Jury. I have a recording of Mr. Richardson's confession to how Michelle died. I'd like to play it back, if you don't mind, Your Honor," she said.

Judge DeMartin turned to Mr. Graham. "Mr. Graham, is that fine with you?"

Mr. Graham nodded approvingly. Richardson and his lawyer grudgingly kept quiet.

Belinda handed the bailiff the tape along with a small tape recorder she'd brought with her.

"Now, when was this recorded when, Miss Harrison?" Judge SummerLynn asked Belinda.

"On February 6, Your Honor. Mr. Richardson had confessed to the murder of the victim."

"I see. You may play the tape," she said.

The bailiff put the tape inside the recorder and pressed the Play button.

A moment later, Richardson's voice played throughout the room.

"_I took off all of her clothes, piece by piece. Then I just had my way with her. She was muffling against that gag and she was crying and trying to fight me off._

_After I done, I got angry. She hated me. I fell in love with her and she hated me. Then I got scared. She was going to tell someone what I had done to her if I spared her._

_I instantly pinned her down and started wrapping my hands around her neck, pressing hard against it."_

That was him, explaining in full detail how he had killed my daughter. I turned to look at him, just to see how he was expressing his emotions. His face looked stoic and remorseless. I wanted to leap across and strangle him myself.

The tape went on, with how he'd disposed of my daughter. I covered my eyes with my hand. I didn't want to hear anymore.

"As you heard, this sounds like an intentional murder more so than an accident, Your Honor," Belinda replied.

Mr. Graham stood up. "If I may, Your Honor, may I please ask Mr. Richardson a couple of questions?"

Judge SummerLynn nodded. "Yes. You may be seated, Miss Harrison," she replied. "Mr. Richardson, please come to the stand."

Richardson turned to his lawyer, who was whispering something to him. Then Richardson walked over to the booth and put his hand on the Bible.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, so help you, God?" The bailiff asked him.

"I do," Richardson said. He took a seat.

Mr. Graham gave him a stony glance. "Now, Mr. Richardson, ask me this one question: Why did you kill Michelle Tanner?"

"I told you, it was an accident," he replied.

"Are you sure it was? Because that tape says otherwise. What you did to that girl was intentional. You were the one who kidnapped, raped and killed her. You spoke in very graphic detail about what you had done to Miss Tanner. Everything that has lead up to Michelle's death, leads to you, Richardson. "

"I object!" Richardson's lawyer yelled, bursting from his seat.

Mr. Graham ignored him. "Miss Tanner's death was no accident. You're lying, Richardson. I know it and everyone else knows it. So when will you "

"I didn't mean it, okay! I – I- loved her, okay!"

"_Love?_ Let me tell you something about love, Mr. Richardson. I have a wife and four children who I love very dearly. I love my job. I love computers. I love God. And I love myself. I have the self-esteem that I know you don't have. You had it all, Richardson. You had a lovely wife and children. You had a good job and you had a lovely home. And what did you do? You started screwing every Jane, Mary and Susan, messing up your life and your family's lives. You were unhappy with your life and you decided you wanted to take the innocence of a little girl.

You didn't care about Michelle or her family. Your twisted fantasies have wreaked havoc on everyone around you. You have ruined the lives of that little girl's family, her friends and everyone she ever knew! You have ruined the life of your own family! You don't know _shit_ about love! Love is_ not_ a fantasy. Love is something extremely universal, something we humans cannot even fully comprehend. So don't tell me that bullshit about how much you loved her. You don't even love your own family, yourself or anyone else, so how could you love someone you didn't even know?"

Mr. Graham was breathing heavily, his face as red as a tomato. His fists were clenched.

"You did not love Michelle Tanner. You were infatuated with her, to be more like it. When your fantasy had finally became a reality; when you got what you wanted, you killed her because she meant nothing to you anymore. You had fantasies of being with other women. You simply left your wife and children to make that fantasy a reality. That's all you did, Mr. Richardson, wasn't it?"

Mr. Richardson didn't answer. He got up from his seat and walked back to his table.

Mr. Graham didn't say a word to him.

"Thank you, Your Honor," he said to the judge. "No further questions."

Judge SummerLynn frowned. "Would everyone please rise, please," she said.

Everyone in the courtroom rose from their seats.

"I'm going to give the members of the jury sometime to decide the outcome of this case. There'll be a one hour recess to give them time to discuss things. Court will be adjourned," she said, banging her gavel.

Everyone left the room, waiting for the jury's decision. I got up, looking for my family.

"I'll be back, Mr. Tanner," Mr. Graham replied. I nodded.

"Dad!" D.J. yelled.

I spotted D.J. with Jesse and Becky. Becky's face looked radiant.

"Did you see the look on Richardson's face when Graham let him have it? This case is such a shoo-in!" she exclaimed.

Jesse agreed. "All the evidence points to him. Plus, we have a confession," he replied.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked.

"They went to look for the restrooms. Dad, how you feel?" D.J. wanted to know.

"I agree with all of you. But…I know that even if justice is served, it won't bring Michelle back," I replied.

Jesse bit back his lips. "No, but at least it will prevent this man from committing another crime like this."

Becky put an arm around me. "Hey, Danny. You hungry? Want something to eat?" she asked me sympathetically.

I shrugged. "Yeah. Guess so," I replied.

"There's a little coffee shop across the street. We can get something to eat there and then come back," D.J. suggested.

I nodded, thinking how good a cup of coffee would be right now.

An hour later, we were all back inside the courtroom. Judge SummerLynn DeMartin banged her gavel again.

"The jury has made their decision. Would everyone please rise, please?"

Everyone rose.

The main jury member, a young woman around D.J's age, cleared her throat and spoke,

"We the jury, find the defendant, Thomas Allen Richardson, guilty of the kidnapping, involuntary rape and first-degree murder of eight-year-old Michelle Tanner," she replied.

Then all hell broke loose from there. Richardson rose from his seat and tried to get away. The bailiff and a few security guards grabbed him and put him in handcuffs.

I spotted Cortney Richardson, sobbing her eyes out.

Joey threw his hands up into the air. "Thank you, God!" he shouted.

"Mr. Richardson, you are to be sent to Death Row for the reminder of your life, without parole. Case is dismissed," Judge SummerLynn replied. She banged her gavel.

I wanted to cry. The trial was over. Justice had finally been served.

My family threw their arms around me in celebration. I could feel Michelle's spirit wrapping herself around me.


	16. Visions

Chapter Sixteen

Visions

It was nearly August on a hot, sticky summer day. Yet I was at the cemetery, putting fresh flowers on Michelle's and Pam's gravestones.

The cemetery looked very peaceful. Without even knowing it, I fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Pam with Papouli and Michelle.

"Danny? Is that you?" Pam asked, smiling brightly at me.

"Pam?" I asked uncertainly.

Pam stepped forward, holding Michelle's hand. "Thank you, Danny," she replied. "For standing up to our daughter. I will take very good care of her."

Papouli smiled at me. "You did a very good job raising her, but it was her time to leave you and stay with the Lord. We are fully at peace now."

Michelle looked at her mother and great-grandfather. "Mom? Papouli? Can I talk to Dad alone?" she asked.

Pam and Papouli nodded. They stepped back and let Michelle talk to me.

"Daddy, I saw everything you did. You really _did_ fight for me," she replied.

"Well, I love you so much, sweetie. I could not fight for you," I said, laughing.

Michelle looked down at her feet. "Daddy, why did that man want to kill me?" she asked.

"I don't really know for sure, sweetheart. But his heart was full of hatred and selfishness for others."

"Daddy, thank you so much. Thanks for everything you've done. Thanks for raising me and being a great father to me. I'm gonna fully appreciate it forever."

I kissed her cheek. "Well, you've been such a pleasure to raise, honey."

Michelle grinned widely.

"Will I ever see you again, Michelle?" I asked.

"When you get here, Daddy. But in the meantime, you have the others to take care of. Don't worry about me. I'm gonna be fine, but D.J., Stephanie and Gia need you."

Michelle hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Just like Joey and D.J. said. Everything's gonna be okay. They were right."

"I don't want to let you go," I said to her. "Ever."

"Me, neither. I wish I didn't have to leave the world so soon, but it was just my time. I'll never stop loving you, though."

I rumpled her hair and let go of her.

"Oh, and good luck with that advocaey group. I know it's going to be great," Michelle replied.

I turned to Pam and Papouli. "Keep an eye on her," I said.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Still the same old overprotective Danny!" She replied, giggling.

"She'll be in good hands, don't worry!" Papouli added. "We will take good care of her!"

Michelle ran back to me. "Oh, and tell Uncle Jesse I love him. Tell him I miss him, too. And tell Denise I love her, too. Tell her I read the letter. And tell Joey I love his poem," she whispered.

She continued on. "Oh, and I hope Derek loved his card. And tell Gia I love her, even if she's been a pain. And D.J. And Aunt Becky and Nicky and Alex. And Comet. And Grandma. And…"

Michelle droned on.

"Michelle? It's time for you to come home now. Give your father one last good-bye and then you have to leave," Pam replied softly.

"Okay."

Michelle threw her arms around me. "Love you, Daddy. Never forget about me," she said.

"Never," I replied.

Michelle grinned at me and turned towards Pam and Papouli. The three of them of them waved to me and I waved back. A second later, the three of them faded away.

I woke up with a start. I was back in the cemetery, between the two stones.

"Man, what a dream," I muttered. I'd dreamed about Pam, Papouli and Michelle in Heaven together. I got up and continued setting more flowers around my ex-wife and daughter's stones.

When I was done, I took a look at the headstones, smiling at how beautiful they looked.

Pam's shiny, flat granite stone had fresh flowers all around it. And Michelle's bright pink one looked incredible.

I put my hands on the headstones. "I love you both," I replied before I turned to leave, walking out of the cemetery into the sunset.


	17. Epilogue

Epilogue

2006: Ten Years Later

"Mr. Tanner, you have a phone call," my secretary, Crystal San Giacomo, told me.

It was ten years later. I was sitting in my office, going through some papers.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"It's a young woman by the name of Olivia Kendall," she replied.

The name sounded vaguely familiar. "Forward her to me," I replied.

"Will do," she replied.

A second or two later, I answered the phone. "LPAG, this is Danny Tanner. May I help you?" I asked.

"Hi. My name is Olivia Kendall. Do you remember me?"

"I think so, but I can't remember," I replied.

"I was the one from New York who wrote that letter to you when I was little. I sent it to you when your daughter was kidnapped."

"Oh! I remember now! It's great to hear from you. How are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine, Mr. Tanner. I was just wondering if I could possibly join your group."

"That's great. How you'd hear about us?"

"Well, when I was about seventeen, I read about you in Life Magazine. I heard about your group and what had happened to Michelle. I'm sorry, by the way."

"It's okay. Really, it is. Of course you can join. Believe it or not, but there are LPAG members all over the world! So far, the group has spread the word about missing and murdered children all over the world. 30,000 have been saved."

"Really? That's wonderful! That's truly a remarkable thing. So, how can I join?"

Ten minutes later, Olivia had more information about joining LPAG. I told her we'd have to set up an interview.

"I'm applying to college in California next Thursday. So maybe I can come then?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure," I said. "Come whenever you want," I said.

"Okay, Mr. Tanner. I'll be there," she said.

And she was. I met Olivia at the airport Thursday evening.

Olivia was a heavyset African-American young woman with long dark hair. She was wearing a SpongeBob SquarePants T-Shirt with a pair of blue jeans and yellow heels. She was also wearing a yellow headband and had yellow bangle bracelets and a pair of yellow hoop earrings.

She spotted me with my family when she noticed the sign 'OLIVIA' on it.

"Hello! Mr. Tanner!" she yelled. She hugged me.

"Olivia, how nice to see you! You like SpongeBob. My grandson loves that show!"

I introduced Olivia to the family. "Olivia, meet my wife, Claire; my daughters, Donna Jo, Stephanie and Gia; my son, Daniel, Jr.; my brother-in-law, Jesse; my best friend, Joey; his wife, Deirdre; my nephews, Nicky and Alex; my sister-in-law, Becky; our friend and neighbor, Kimmy; my son-in-law, Steven and my grandson, Mark."

Olivia bent down to see my youngest son, Danny Jr., who was only three years old.

Danny Jr. was born in 2003, the first male born into the Tanner household.

D.J. and Steve were married a year after Richardson's trial. In 1999, their son, Mark Michael Hale was born.

My family has grown.

I had quit my job at the TV station a year after the trial. Since then, LPAG (Little Princess Advocacy Group) has been my main concern. I have traveled all over the world, spreading the word about protecting children, the world's most recent cases of murdered children and of course, Michelle, the main reason I started the group in the first place. LPAG has been pretty successful during the past few years of operation. I've been featured on TV, radio, magazines and newspapers. Even my family has helped out with LPAG. My group currently has 20,000 members worldwide and counting.

Cortney Richardson remarried to Henry Lovett two years after her first husband went to jail. Her son and daughter, Jason and Lacey Lynn are now twenty-one years old and both are in college.

Nor Cortney or her children ever contacted their father during his time in jail.

Belinda Harrison moved to Beijing, China with Detective Lindsey Wu's older brother, Gregory.

Denise, Teddy, Derek, Jason, Lisa and Lacey Lynn all graduated from high school and are all applying to different colleges and universities. The six of them recently held a ten-minute memorial in Michelle's memory before the graduation began. If Michelle had lived, she would have been twenty.

Marian Hacker-Weissman, the police officer who helped a great deal in the murder case, is still a police officer. She has written an autobiography about herself and occasionally helps me with LPAG.

And as for Thomas Allen Richardson, the man responsible for my daughter's death is still serving time in Death Row. Since he has a lifetime sentence, he is probably suffering there, but I could care less.

I am happy. I am enjoying my life as much as I can to the fullest. Every morning, I wake up to see the sunshine. I know it's a sign from Michelle that today's going to be a great day. Even when it rains, I feel good. Slowly, but surely, I have learned to let Michelle go. It took a hell of a lot of time before I was able to, but I love her. That was why I let her go. But there are days when I miss her like crazy. Whenever I see new photos of the family together, I always think to myself that someone's missing. _Oh, it's Michelle_, I once thought. I have accepted her death but I still miss her and I still love her.

When Danny Jr. and Mark get older, I will tell them stories about her. The big sister and aunt Michelle never got to become.

It rained the day Olivia came to visit San Francisco. She told us a lot about herself and her family back in New York. I told her about myself as well.

Before we drove home, I drove to the cemetery to visit Pam and Michelle.

"Here they are," I announced to Olivia.

Olivia knelt down and put her hands over Michelle and Pam's graves. She took a small box out of the bag she was carrying over her shoulders. She then opened the box and pulled out two cowrie shell necklaces. She wrapped a necklace around Pam's grave and then another around Michelle's.

"There. Now they look beautiful," she replied.

She kissed the graves and then picked up her bag and walked away, leaving us there in the rain, looking at the shells on the graves.

We quickly followed her into the sunset.

The End AN: Check out the acknowledgements after this chapter! 


	18. Thanks and Acknowledgements

Danny's Thanks and Acknowledges

Danny: There are so many people I want to thank for the publishing of this book. Well, first off, I'd like to thank God.

Thank you to my loving family! Claire, Pam, Papouli, Donna Jo, Stephanie, Michelle, Gia, Danny Jr., Rebecca, Jesse, Joey, Steve, Nicholas, Alexander, Steve, Mark and Kimmy; I love you guys to death!

Thank you to Denise Frazier and her family as well as the entire elementary school students of the 1995-96 school years at Fraiser Elementary School (including Lisa, Teddy, Derek and all of Michelle's closest friends).

Special thanks to the San Francisco Police Department, the New Orleans Police Department, the Oakland Police Department; Officer Marian Hacker-Weissman, Detective Lindsey Wu, Detective Belinda Harrison, and Officer Ronald Miller. My lawyer, Richard Graham, Cortney, Jason and Lacey Lynn Richardson, Crystal San Giacomo and Olivia Kendall.

The H.R. Williams Funeral Home, The Mayor of San Francisco, BookWorm Press (in both Kenner, Louisiana and San Francisco), our neighborhood of Delaney Street, the members of LPAG (You know who you are), my former colleagues of _Wake Up, San Francisco!_, and each and every positive form of the media that featured my daughter.

My publishers, Googles Books, my agent, Franklin O'Mard-Watson.

To everyone I have not mentioned, I have not forgotten you. Thank you to those I have forgotten to add. A million times I say thank you!

Danny Tanner

2006

See You Next Thursday's Thanks and Acknowledgements (AN Author's Notes):

I wrote this story to hopefully teach people awareness of situations like this. Michelle is not a real person, but unfortunately, there are children everywhere just like her in this story that get kidnapped everyday. There are stories I hear about children just like Michelle who have been kidnapped and then murdered by sick, selfish and horrible adults like Thomas Richardson. This story is dedicated to every single child that's ever been murdered by a selfish adult. I can't name_ all_ of the children, but here are a mere few of the children that have touched my heart: Nixzmary Brown, Lauren Sarene Key, Destiny Norton, Danielle Van Dam, Samantha Runnion, Carlie Brucia, Molly Bish, Deanna Cremin, Holly Piirainen, Jessica Lunsford, Lillian Entwistle, Judith Barsi, Stella and Ruby Harvey, Jeffrey Curley, JonBenét Ramsey, Teresa Cormack, Sherrice Iverson, Amy Mihaljevic and Ashley Pond and Miranda Gaddis….the list goes on and on. May these young people (and those I've not named) rest in peace. Please keep an eye out on your children if any of you are reading this.

I'd like to thank every single individual who reviewed my story. Your reviews have put a smile on my face and have really made me think. I wanted to bring up a very serious topic. I appreciate all your feedback and I hope it will make me an even better writer. Thanks for pointing out all my mistakes throughout the story! You guys rock!


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